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draconic-ichor · 1 year

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I Want to Ruin You

Morgott/Lady Tarnished oc

Smut dabble

Warnings: strong language, sexual themes, oral sex, knotting, penetrative sex, fingering, cumshot, heat cycles, slight cum inflation, pining

Summary: An AU in which the GodLord did not choose Morgott as her consort but still works along side him. Things get heated when the sexual tension gets to them…

Feedback appreciated, 18+. Just wanted to play with this idea

After the mending, a new ruler arose, taking both the place as God and Lord. She shook the world by its roots, changing the laws and placing all the inhuman races on the same level as the humans. Because of this, and her newness to the position as ruler, King Morgott was allowed to keep his title. Ever one of duty, he continued his work, helping the GodLord fix this new world.

Side by side.

The more time that passed, the more rumors began to crop up; the people began to ask when the GodLord would take a consort. It was tradition, and she was expected to birth demigods.

Yet…no consort was chosen.

Something deep inside Morgott was thankful, enjoying working alongside her. As they spent more time together the feelings began to thorn into his chest and churn up his stomach.

Her smile and fleeting touches started to haunt his dreams. He would watch her when she was busy, watch the way her hips swayed as she walked, or the way her lips moved while speaking to the staff. His heart would threaten to burst from his chest.

He felt foolish, burying those feelings away.

He was an omen…cursed.

No matter how deeply he tried to lock them away, they bubbled back up.

The Lady Tarnished also noticed, feelings mirrored but unspoken. After finding some small items disappearing in the wake of meeting with the King, she had enough: Calling him to the Elden throne.

Morgott stepped into the glowing light of the Erdtree, squinting a bit against its splendor. The steps were many, but ones he’d made countless times. He found the Lady waiting…alone. Peculiar.

Coming before her, Morgott asked, “My Lady asked of mineself?”

“I did.” She nodded, looking worried. She was flushed and jittery, definitely peculiar for her. “I need to talk to you.” She went on, “About us?”

The words knocked him off balance, stiffening.

She looked up at him, arms crossed, “Things have been…odd between us recently. You had to have noticed?”

“Nothing seems amiss, my Lady.” He lied.

The tarnished stepped towards him, “We can’t pretend-“

With every step closer he attempted to back away, keeping that space of safety between them, unsure what he would do without it. Looking down at her now, the skin between her collarbone and the swell of her breasts, pressed together so perfectly in the tight bodice of her low cut dress, went straight to his cock. Morgott felt hot, holding his cane tighter, ears deaf to whatever she’d been saying.

“Morgott!” She snapped, jolting him from his thoughts.

He stumbled a bit backwards, ass falling perfectly into the Elden throne. Words couldn’t find him for a moment, mind reeling as she closed the distance.

Practically between his knees, her face was flushed, golden eyes intense.

Was it from anger? Annoyance?

He paled.

“Are you even listening?” She asked, reaching out and resting her hands on his knees. The contact sent a shiver up his form. “I-I can’t do this anymore…” her voice was weak, cracking a bit at the edges.

“M-Mine Lady?” He stammered, “Prithee…forgive mineself, for whatever transgressions-“

She stopped him, meeting his gaze again, her face an even deeper shade of crimson. “All you’ve done is made me go mad with want!” The Lady Tarnished blurted out, the words tumbling, “I can’t do this dance anymore, I know you look upon me when you think I won’t notice. Avoided me since our hands touched…I…I thought…”

He swallowed, disbelief over his features, fur fluffed up a bit.

“I want you.” She admitted, eyes wet, “More than I've wanted anyone…you…you…”

When he didn’t respond, too lost in the confession, her eyes drifted to what lay right before her: a great tent that had formed under his robes. A shaky breath left her, that ache throbbing in her core.

She urged his legs further apart, the omen opening effortlessly under her touch.

“M-Mine Lady.” He swallowed, cane dropping to the side of the throne.

“Do you,” she ripped her eyes away from the bulge to ask, “Do you feel the same for me?”

“This is not,” he started, “We should not feel…I am not…”

“I don’t care what you are.”

“I would stain you…”

“Then stain me.”

“My Lady.”

“Tell me.”

“…”

“Morgott.”

“Aye.”

“Aye, what? I have to hear it.” She pressed, almost trembling.

“Mine mind has been ate up with the most blasphemous thoughts of thee.” He admitted, face flushed, looking away.

She smiled with relief. Her hands drifted higher, fingernails catching the fabric of his robes. “What thoughts?” The Lady asked, fingers deftly untying his belts.

“Thine small hands.” He began, voice weak, skin tingling under her touch, “Thy mouth…”

“My mouth?” She asked cheekily, opening up the front of the robe, freezing in her tracks for a moment, finding him bare underneath. His cock sprang free, throbbing as the cool air licked at the exposed flesh.

“A-Apologies-“ he began but the words died in a moment when he felt her exploring hands.

She gingerly felt over his large member, curious. He certainly wasn’t human, a fat knot already swelling at the cock’s base. She pulled back to untie the bodice of her dress, her plush breasts spilling out. Looking up she giggled to see her antics had been watched closely.

Getting comfortable between his legs, as if the place were made specifically for herself. Taking his cock in hand, “Go on. What did you imagine with my mouth?” She purred.

Morgott covered his face a bit. “Thy…Thine lips…” he managed.

“Oh?” She kissed at the underside of the pointed head, feeling the heat that pulsed from his cock in her hands.

Morgott gritted his teeth, looking away shamefully as his cock oozed. The Lady eagerly lapped away the clear fluid, head swimming. Her breasts quivered with every breath that fanned over his member.

He wouldn’t last long like this, pressing the knuckles of a closed fist to his mouth in an attempt to ground himself. The Tarnished’s soft hands worked him over languidly, eyes dark with lust as she watched every pulse and throb, imagining how it’s every bump would feel inside her.

“M-mine Lady.” Morgott managed with a strained whisper. She hummed, mouth sucking him in as much she could, tongue messily circling the tip.

He glanced down, but that was a mistake.

The Tarnished met his gaze, eyes blown out and dewy, batting her eyelashes as she sucked his cockhead.

The cords of muscle in his thighs tightened, fire in his stomach burning. He groaned, hips thrusting a bit on their own despite his restraint.

The Lady moaned happily at his reaction, his member slipping free from her mouth with a lewd pop. Her hands moved up and down his shaft more feverishly, mumbling praises to him.

She felt perfect.

Morgott stifled a cry, pulling her head down near the base as his cock throbbed. A thick rope of seed burst forth, shooting past the Lady’s head and painting the stone. She mewled, feeling a bit of the searing liquid drip down her back, nose deep in the thick fur of his groin.

Coming back to his senses, Morgott hastily released her head, the tarnished gulping in needed air. He swallowed, words lost on his tongue as shame burned his face.

The lady moved to clean away the still dribbling tip, hearing him make a sound from the overstimulation.

“You did so well, my King.” She purred, blinking up at him with half lidded eyes, his softening cock against her cheek.

The way she looked at him, something hidden beneath the blanket of lust…

Morgott swallowed.

“What tis a King to a God?” He asked, reaching down a large hand towards her cheek. The Lady nuzzled into his palm like an obedient hound.

They went on like this, Morgott refusing to give her more than his fingers or even more rarely his mouth. Thinking himself unworthy of her body, but unable to resist the way she made him feel.

After a few months the Lady couldn’t handle it anymore, her heightened sex drive sending her into a mock heat of sorts. Her skin felt hot, thighs quivering with a constant wetness between them. She had cried and begged for him…he answered, as always.

But his fingers weren’t enough, and as he drank up another orgasm so freely given to his exploring tongue, realized his mouth could do little to satisfy her either. Her smell was even different, making his mind swim.

He pulled back, his face a mess, cock throbbing with need. He wanted to ruin her, stretch out her pretty cunt so only an omen’s cock could ever satisfy her again. Morgott almost trembled, watching her shake with aftershocks, her hands knotting the blankets.

She raised her ass more in a display of want and submission. Begging with broken words for him to take her. Her hole looked even more tempting now that it was puffy, dripping a mixture of his saliva and her release.

The beast within Morgott thrashed within his ribs like a caged animal.

He couldn’t fight it anymore, couldn’t refuse his needs a moment longer.

Raising to his knees, Morgott grabbed at her hips, head spinning. The Lady mewled, face down in the bed. He made a shallow thrust, his member rubbing her opening before being spurred away by its tightness. His cockhead bent downwards, running along her swollen clit. They both gave a little moan from the friction.

But it wasn’t enough.

Morgott took his cock in hand, attempting to line it up with her opening. It caught on the rim, but was putting up quite the fight for deeper entry. He huffed, poking at her more fervently.

The madness of want threatened them both, the Tarnished practically crying for him. Finally the fat head of his cock breached her tightness; and all at once that careful seal, the plethora of oaths that they would never couple in such a circumstance, was shattered.

Morgott groaned, grasping her hips to spear her further, hips thrusting on their own. The Lady cried out praise with every inch fucked into her, that deep need being fulfilled. The burn was so welcome, pain intermingling with pleasure.

Once fully seated, he began to buck into her. She met his frenzied thrusts, mind going to mush.

His knot popped into her tight hole; before he could stop, his body reacted: violently cumming straight into her womb. A cry ripped from both their throats, the euphoria whiting out their vision. Morgott’s muscles shook, claws deep in the meat of the Lady’s hips, locking them together as he moaned with every spurt of his cock.

It was rapture.

Sinful, delicious, rapture.

For years he’d been denying himself, careful to avoid the sensitive knot when allowing what little relief his first offered; thinking the pleasure it would bring, blasphemous. Now, squeezed so tightly with velvety heat, sent him into a second orgasm, just as blinding as the first.

Unable to handle anymore, the Tarnished’s body snapped, releasing on his cock and tightly milking him. It made his orgasm crash harder, Morgott cried out, tail lashing. It topped over the nightstand, the clatter of broken pottery and scattered metal to follow. They were deaf to the commotion, writhing in their respected aftershocks.

He fell forward, catching himself before crushing the tarnished. Breathes were ragged, throat aching. His mind began to clear, and with it the shame sat in. Morgott glanced down, seeing her pretty cunt messy, clamped around his knot like a vice. He tried to pull free, earning some pained whimpers and muscles squeezing his sensible cock. Stuck tight.

…Oh Erdtree, how long would they be stuck like this??

He thought, face burning, eyes finally catching the bruises already blooming on the Lady’s thighs…perfectly handprints…

The tarnished kneaded the blankets in-front of her blissfully, feeling more full than she ever had before. Stomach was taut and swollen, a hand drifting down to curiously smooth over the bump.

“M-Mine Lady.” Morgott swallowed, wanting to hide away, “Prithee forgive me…”

She stiffened a bit under him, twisting enough to eye him. “Don’t apologize.” She ordered.

He opened his mouth to argue but she reached out for his closest hand. She clutched at him, wanting more comfort, it made his chest ache. She wasn’t angry with him?

He stained her, marred her in a way he never should have even dreamed of.

His fingers twitched, slowly enveloping her own, smaller hand. “It should not have been mineself…” he whispered, “This gift…for thy consort…”

There was a moment of silence. The Lady released his hold, moving to shift. Morgott helped her a bit to ease the strain on the locked knot, rolling her onto her back. The Lady blinked up at him with large golden eyes, face still flushed.

“Morgott?” She asked, heart thumping in her chest, “Do you truly think such?”

“…Aye.” He nodded, hard to hold her gaze given their current positions, “An honor as this…for thy’s future consort.”

“We should make it right, then.” She nodded, looking down in thought.

His large hand trembled a bit as he softly took her cheek, raising her to meet his gaze once more. “How so?” His voice raw.

Her hand went to his wrist, nuzzling into the contact as she batted her eyes up at him. “Only one thing to do.” She smiled hopefully, “You must become my consort.”

#this is filth #smut dabbles #morgott smut #morgott/tarnished #morgott x tarnished #morgott the grace given #I’m not sorry

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flycasual · 11 days

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Thy Dark Brotherhood OCs ..... prithee milord .... I should like to hear of them

Ohoho boy would I LOVE to talk about them!

The main one is, of course, Phora. Who is not in fact a member of the Dark Brotherhood any longer. Because she betrayed them. For the guy who adopted her, Forvyth (my partner's character), and brought her into it in the first place. They're both very traumatized and have SUCH a sad, messed up, turmoil filled father-daughter relationship, but they'd go to the ends of the world for each other.

Then I have a little group for a Sanctuary my partner and I made for Forvyth to fuck up, so my half includes: Fondael - Jaqspur dropout who realized one day that, actually, he just really liked killing people? It was fun and he was good at it, and he had the skills to go toe-to-toe with any actual jaqspur, and he'd rather join a murder cult about it and be around like-minded individuals. Frequently got called "fondle" by his dear family. ("You can fondle me any time!") Not that he was any better. He mostly teased Hyacil, honestly they all mostly tease Hyacil. He'd take his stuff and claim the Rite of Theft just to fuck with him and ultimately give it back. Overall a smug, self-assured bastard that got a sick kick out of murder. None of that saved him, he's the first (and only so far) to die.

Hyacil - my sweet baby boy poor little meow meow Agoraphobic Alchemist Altmer Assassin. One of many children belonging to a well-off family who showed an inclination for alchemy from a pretty young age. The fact that he accidentally poisoned a servant with an experiment was brushed under the rug, but his refusal to enter into the marriage his family had arranged for him? Disowned. Disinherited. He found himself alone and homeless in a world that he was terrified to be alone and outside in. So when the Brotherhood came knocking, he went along. He rarely leaves the Sanctuary, mostly he just provides poisons and potions to the others. He likes bugs.

Aesif - Youngest in the Sanctuary. They were infected with Lycanthropy at a young age and abandoned by their family out of fear as a result. They barely survived multiple times over, but adapted and fought to live. Eventually they were found, taken in, and trained by Mallory Moor, who soon after was given her own Sanctuary. Aesif is young and full of energy and is really just Happy To Be Here. It's nice to have a home, and a family, and a purpose. They like to have fun and don't have like, the best social skills in the world, because Mallory never really bothered to teach them.

Mallory Moor - Little is known about her and little needs to be known. She was a knight, once, but those days are long behind her. She's quiet, severe, and takes her job and her commitment to Sithis and the Night Mother seriously. She hasn’t gone on a contract on her own in years, all of her time is spent managing the Velyn Sanctuary. She raised Aesif in the loosest possible meaning of the word. She brought them into the Brotherhood when she found them because she found an effective killer, and thought it would have been a waste to leave them living like a wild animal when they would be of more use tamed and as an assassin.

Ciiri - Oh Ciiri. Sithis' favorite little princess. When she's not on a contract she's working in a brothel nearby in the harbor. She doesn't need to, but then you could say she doesn't need to be an assassin. She's good enough at either one to support herself, but she's a little obsessed with both. A little convinced she's the best at both. Queen of sex and murder. She believes they go together, and the only thing that keeps her clients at the brothel alive is that they're clients at the brothel and she likes that job. Most in the Sanctuary just see her as a sex pest who is dogmatically obsessed with her religion, but they just don't quite realize how dedicated or dangerous she actually is. She's a powerful blood mage, and only two people in the Sanctuary know that. Even without it she's a well trained and determined assassin who is frequently given the highest value contracts without any of the others ever knowing about it. She'd kill them all for Sithis in the blink of an eye and wouldn't think twice about it. She sticks to the Green Pact in the laziest, loosest way because she barely cares. Why should she? What is Y'ffre compared to Sithis and the Night Mother?

We also have Drusilla & Regulus Tharn, who are almost never around. Distant, minor, absolute who Tharns - married when they were younger and joined the Brotherhood around the same time; after they murdered Drusilla’s entire family together over their disapproval of her desire to marry a Tharn. Asshole older rich couple who show up at the Sanctuary when they can be bothered and treat it like a hobby. Drusilla sometimes keeps trophies.

#unironicallycringe #tesblr #the dark brotherhood #TES ocs #Elder Scrolls oc #long post #I'm sorry I love them all #and these are only the developed ones I have SO MANY ideas for others #these are all 2nd era roughly ESO timeline characters but we write them completely separate from the game #Sanguine my brother

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beansnsoup · 2 years

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Outreach Day

Xavier Thorpe x ftm!male!addams!reader

Summary: You have finally come to a comfortable point in your transition, a change in schools, a new wardrobe, new friends, but it can take one encounter to wreck it all but only one person to clean up that wreckage.

Warnings: bullying, transphobia, slurs (they're bleeped out to an extent), angst, FTM, deadnaming (D/M), mentions of wanting to d1e (in a I wanna get out of this situation way), spitting food out

-OMG I'm writing again! I think I have been accidentally shadow banned so that's why I took a very long break, I am back now though and still taking requests, I hope at least my followers will see this and if any of you know how to fix this shadow ban please comment or dm me because I will take any help I can get <3-

You walked into town with your sister's roommate, Enid, you all had just received the jobs you were assigned for the day that morning and were walking back from the mayor's speech, and you weren't too pumped about it. You were scanning around for your sister when she suddenly popped up behind you both.

"Enid, switch volunteer assignments." Wednesday wasn't really asking her, you stood to the side and waited for them to finish talking so you wouldn't have to walk alone. You've had enough problems in this town already, you didn't want to add on to the pile.

"What? No. Uriah's Heap is definitely not my bag." She said in a majorly disgusted tone. Wednesday shot back quick,

"It's an emergency. I need to check out Pilgrim World."

"But Wednesday, this is not a fair trade. Why would I agree to spend the entire day at some dumpy emporium of crapola?"

You cut in before Wednesday could, "I overheard Ajax talking to his friends this morning, he's volunteering there too. It would be a great time for you to make a move."

When Enid turned back to Wednesday after you told your point she was holding up her envelope for Uriah's Heap. "I can always just go, if you're not interested-"

"No! Oh my God, thank you. You guys are the best!"

She traded the papers and ran off towards the shop, you turn towards your sister, "Why do you want to go to Pilgrim World anyways? Weren't you dissing on it the other day?"

She stayed silent for a second, "I need something from there, it could help figure out the truth behind Rowan."

"Why didn't you just switch with me? I mean I'm all for Enid finally getting the balls to hit on him, but I'd rather go there than Pilgrim World." You asked her as you both started you way over there.

"I knew she would give in more easily."

You just stayed silent; you would still be at public school right now if it wasn't for Wednesday. Pugsley is staying just for the fact that your parents thought having him fend for himself for a bit would be better. You were moved to Nevermore along with Wednesday because you begged your parents for a new start, going to that school was terrible enough but going there while transitioning was even worse.

You were dead named almost every day, the number of times Wednesday had to defend you then help walk you to the nurse was embarrassing. So, after the piranha incident they enrolled you with her. You had a dorm all to yourself because your roommate switched last minute, wasn't like you were complaining, being alone suited you, gave you more time for reading.

Being switched to a new school with new people didn't mean there wouldn't still be transphobes, you still got slurs thrown your way. You were just glad it wasn't the whole school, just about 4 students.

You both reach Pilgrim World just in time for some introductions,

"Good Morrow, my young Nevermore kin. I am Mistress Arlene. A real OC. Original Colonist. Now prithee, put your cellphones on vibrate and make haste, for you are about to travel back in time to the year of our Lord 1625, to Jericho's first pilgrim settlement."

She turns around and walks at a fast pace to give us a tour,

"Yonder. Behold, the meeting house. Inside is a collection of artifacts related to Jericho's most beloved and pious founder, Joseph Crackstone. And beyond is our privy, America's first gender-neutral restroom."

Wednesday steps up, that's when you knew you were in for a treat,

"I haveth a query."

"Pray, be quick, child."

"In the meeting house, which of Joseph Crackstone's artifacts are on display?"

"It's truly a treasure trove, including original farm tools, tableware, even the Crackstone family chamber pot."

"Sounds fascinating. I volunteer to work there."

"Pray, no. That exhibit is being renovated. Today, thou will all be working at the beating heart of Pilgrim World."

"'Ye Olde Fudgery?'" Eugene asks out loud. You snicker under your breath as Wednesday responds to his out loud thought, "More like ye olde diabetes in a box."

"Volunteers, prick up thine ears. Fudge is the lifeblood of our humble community. And samples equal sales, so grab a uniform and a box and make our forefathers proud."

"Are these for muzzling tourists?" You ask, looking at Wednesday, then her, she is refusing to make eye contact with either of you. You grab a uniform and change into it in the bathroom, you readjusted your binder while you were in there, you know you would regret it, the one you bought was a size too small, so it was a bit uncomfortable, but you were glad to have one, nonetheless.

Mistress Arlene handed you a tray full of samples, you stood in a corner near the shop to slightly sponsor it from afar, the spot you chose barely had people near, so you were alone and unbothered, just how you liked it. There was also a clock you could look at, it was in a building near you, at an angle you could see the whole clock perfectly, then you could check how much more time you had left until you left.

Only 5 people had come up to you to taste a sample, you saw 2 of those 5 actually enter the fudgery, it was kind of embarrassing, you had a taste earlier and it was sort of bittersweet. The uniform wasn't doing you any justice either, it was kind of itchy. You glanced back towards the window to check the time and right below the building was a group of girls you never wanted to see again.

What were the doing here?

Did they know you were here?

Did she see me?

One of the girls stop talking, she stops her friends and points over to you, you see them mouth 'Oh my God' 'No way' and all this other stuff before they start to make their way over to you. You wanted to drop the tray and start running, or at least dig a hole, and bring the fudge, it could be your last meal as you die in that hole.

They finally reach their destination, which is of course you

"Oh my God? D/N! I feel like we haven't talked in forever. Didn't think i would see you here, especially wearing... that..."

You feel your face flush, where is Wednesday?

"That's not my name, it's Y/N, and I'm here for school."

"Oh, that's right, you're a tra--y. No wonder you go to school with a bunch of freaks."

Her friends laugh at her remark.

You wanted to die.

She grabbed a fudge off of your tray, chewed it for a good bit a spit it out right into your face,

"Jeez, that tastes like crap. Oops, sorry..."

You slowly wipe the fudge off of your face as you walk her and her friends walking away, your eyes swell up, there laughter keeps getting louder and louder even though they have walked away.

You needed to get out of here.

You dropped the tray to the ground and started towards the exit, you walk past Wednesday and Eugene, they're both looking at you. Before Wednesday can even catch you to ask for help in whatever it is she is doing you're already at the exit.

You didn't know where to go, Wednesday told you about that coffee place and how she had run into the sheriff there, maybe it would calm your nerves.

You open the door after you finally reach it, you stand there for a bit, taking in the ambiance of the place. You then walk up to the counter, checking out the menu, you can't even finish reading it because someone is staring at you.

"Yes?"

"Oh, sorry, you just looked a lot like somebody."

"Hm, you must be Tyler. I'm Wednesday's brother, Y/N."

"Oh, does she talk about me?"

"Yes, mostly about how much you irritate her."

You hear a snicker after that, you look behind you to find a boy from school, his name is Xavier, he's in your 3rd period. Tyler rolls his eyes and walks off to the back,

"Hey,"

"Hi,"

There it is, that's your comfort.

He makes you a drink and sits down with you, you didn't even have to ask him to, he asks you how your day has been, and you tell him everything, from how itchy the collar of your uniform was as soon as you out it on to the point where you were getting fudge spat in your face. He never butt in, he just listened to you, and for the first time in a while, you genuinely smiled.

And after that you guys talked for about 30 minutes, you both forgot you had work to do. A ding at the door distracts you both, you turn around to find Wednesday, she doesn't say anything, she just walks up to the counter. Before Xavier can go help her out Tyler beats him to it, which you were kind of glad about, that meant you could talk to him longer.

"Hey, I know this might be a bit forward, considering we technically just met even though you're in one of my classes, but did you maybe want to go to the Rave'N with me?"

You felt your face flush again that day, but not out of fright, okay maybe a little bit of fright, but more of shyness.

"Yeah, sure."

You were trying to seem as casual as possible,

"Cool, cool. Listen, i got to get back to work but I'll definitely talk to you later."

You smile, "Yeah."

You were actually excited for a school dance for once.

#wednesday #wednsday addams #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe imagine #xavier thorpe x addams!reader #xavier thorpe x male reader #trans boy

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sleepingfancies · 3 months

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Prithee, tell me which one of your OCs haunts your mind most today?

AUAUHGHGHGHG i've been sucked back into dragon age hell and i've been thinking about my Rowena Trevelyan all day . major inquisition + trespasser dlc spoilers and an extremely long ramble under the cut im so so sorry beloved mutual </3

she was just a KID like.... Rowena was permitted to go to the conclave as a budding apprentice mage. as an OBSERVER she didn't even get a vote. she was wandering around during a break when she happened upon the ritual . it was like an academic field trip for her, a chance for her to see the politics behind the scene and nothing more. and within hours her mentor and everyone she knew was killed in the blast and she was the sole survivor. and then she became surrounded by people she didn't know and handed responsibility and divinity she never asked for and had no clue how to handle !!!!!!!!!!!!

and this is AFTER she was essentially abandoned by her Trevelyan family for being a mage in the first place. 5 generations of non-mages and her parents thought they were safe for sure and then they had Her. a recessive gene last seen a century ago resurfacing . they threw her in the circle at the first opportunity. she sent letters for the first few years - they never answered. her family became her mentor and her fellow mage children. she learned young that the Maker didn't want her, that her magic was a mistake. her family would've loved her just fine if she hadn't been a mage.

so she's just so ANGRY about it all deep down. everyone she knows is killed and these strangers have the NERVE to call HER - a mage, a mistake, an affront to the Maker - the Herald of Andraste. one cataclysmic event and suddenly everyone thinks she's not only special for her magic, but a gift from the Maker. and how dare they!!! how dare they respect her and beg for her help now after so many years of neglect and lies and abuse!!

the first thing Cassandra does is question whether she believes in the Maker. and what is she supposed to say? "He believes my existence is a mistake, so I believe He exists as a tyrant" is what comes to her mind. but she grew up around templars and learned not to speak her mind around people she couldn't 100% trust. so she holds her tongue and says she isn't sure what to believe anymore. it's not entirely a lie, and it placates Cassandra: the person who could most easily decide she was more of a liability than a blessing.

as time passes in Haven, Solas becomes her new mentor; a surprise to both of them, really. but he knows more about spirits and the Fade than she was ever taught - she doesn't even know how to use the mark on her hand. He teaches her how to close the rifts, how to navigate the Fade in her dreams, how to learn all that spirits have to offer. She looks up to him. between him and Dorian and Vivienne, she has finally found similar company. Dorian never questions her caution about believing in the Maker. Vivienne never judges her for not knowing much about the world outside the circle. Solas is helping her grow and learn.

the other companions help, too. she latches onto Blackwall - he's like the father she never had. Iron Bull and the Chargers take her in and give her social sanctuary. Sera agrees not to call her the Herald, and knows exactly how to make her laugh. Cole helps her process her former mentor's death and her separation from her friends at the wycome circle. Varric won't let her overwork herself, he knows she didn't want any of this. for awhile, things seem okay.

and then Corypheus comes. Haven is destroyed. she's lost in the wilderness with cracked ribs and a broken leg and she's freezing to death. she doesn't even remember how the advisors found her, or where. "we saw our hero fall, and rise again" Mother Giselle says. if people didn't believe Rowena was sent by the Maker before, they do now. she doesn't believe it herself. she hates it. she's angry at them all

then comes Skyhold. a throne, judgment over prisoners, occupying Crestwood, deals with Starkhaven and the Antivan Crows and Kal-Sharok, "Inquisitor," traversing the Fade physically, the Chantry asking after her companions as Divine candidates, all of it. Every decision that should be brokered between entire countries comes down to one barely-in-her-20s apprentice mage who didn't even know what Val Royeaux looked like 6 months ago.

the bubbly attitude she tried to keep up starts to crack. her parents write her a letter asking if she could set aside some of the Inquisition's coin to cover their legal fees after they had a property feud with the Selbach family. she never writes back. "get to the point," she tells Morrigan, something she never would have said before all of this. the judgments come down harsher. the executions get a little too easy to carry out. she closes the rifts more aggressively than before.

and then Corypheus is beaten. the Breach is sealed. for one brief moment, the thought crosses her mind: 'I can finally leave.' she can go back to the wycome circle and hug her old friends, tell them what happened. she can go see the world she never could before. the mark on her hand can stop making people bow to her even when she begs them not to. she did what the Inquisition set out to do. it's over. it's done.

and then they never let her go.

even as her new friends scatter to the wind, dusting their hands off, their moral obligation fulfilled, Rowena sits on the Inquisition throne and feels herself rotting. Solas abandoning her without so much as a goodbye after Corypheus fell stung, but a part of her expected it, too. she caught on quickly that he wasn't the type of person to linger once he felt his role was done. so that was fine. she made peace with that. but the others? Sera, Blackwall, Vivienne, all of them? one by one, they left with an urgency that felt like a dagger to the heart. only Dorian admitted he lingered for the sake of her friendship, but even he was called away eventually.

and then another glimmer of hope: Orlais and Ferelden disagree on the Inquisition's future. for the sake of her advisors, Rowena puts on her old bubbly attitude, claims the Inquisition isn't going anywhere. deep down she rattles the bars and begs Bann Teagan to demand the Inquisition be dissolved. she has one more chance to be free of this. to be someone - though she has no idea WHO anymore - outside of the Inquisitor.

and then the mark flares up. the Qunari have reached the end of their patience with the Inquisition. they dont realize how badly Rowena wants to agree with them. and then the breadcrumbs lead back to Solas. and Solas wants to end the world.

she can do nothing but break down. one more thing she'll be expected to stop. another ambiguous number of years she'll be expected to spend on it. another problem she's not qualified to solve. she's so angry and so sad and so sick of it all, and for the first time in her life she misses the stupid teenager she used to be in wycome whose most pressing issue was figuring out how to frame a templar for her petty thefts.

she doesn't remember having her arm amputated, or her advisors even coming to that decision. being without the mark feels odd, but not unpleasant. as if a nagging splinter has finally been removed from under her skin. Varric promises he'll find someone who can make her a prosthetic. she doesn't care one way or the other. at long last, what made her "special" is finally gone. the world has given her permission to close this chapter of her life for good.

Bann Teagan gets what he wants. Rowena dissolves the Inquisition. finally, at last, she can tell everyone involved to go home. she can figure out who she is. maybe she'll go to Rivain, Varric always said he heard it was lovely there. when the world collapses she'll be hundreds of miles away. maybe she'll be vaporized, maybe slow radiation-like sickness will claim her life, maybe a demon will finally best her. she doesn't really care.

and then her advisors won't let her leave. the Inquisition's dissolution was only a preventative measure, Josephine says. we can operate against Solas without risking his spies infiltrating our ranks, Cullen says. Rowena doesn't have it in her to argue anymore. she doesn't want this. she wants to be anywhere but here. she thought she was free. "okay," she says blankly instead. "that sounds like a good idea."

ten years tick by. Rowena is in her 30s now. she still has no idea what Rivain looks like. Dorian and Vivienne and Blackwall have kept in touch. the others, not so much. she hasn't heard from Cole or Iron Bull at all since they left. she doesn't try to put on that bubbly facade anymore. she's too angry and tired and bitter to bother. no one asks if she's alright anymore. they know she isn't. whatever soul searching she intended to do before won't happen now; this is who she is after all this time. a young woman with a stern brow and stress-induced grey hairs, a prosthetic arm, and no patience for small talk.

she doesn't think about that kid she was before the conclave exploded. that person might as well be a stranger. she can never go back, and there is no future where she isn't the Inquisitor. the only chapter of her life that ever really closed was the one where she thought escape was still possible.

Varric tells her he found someone called "Rook." he thinks they'll be perfect to fight back against Solas. Rowena believes him. she tells him to wish them the best of luck. but she knows she won't be able to stay out of the fray forever. and by now, she doesn't want to. her resentment has festered for a decade. Solas robbed her of her last chance to have a life as Rowena Trevelyan - not as the Inquisitor, not as the Herald, not as anything else. his plans aside, his abandonment of her aside, that robbery is the real betrayal that she could never let go of. and at this point, she never will.

#hamburgerslippers #answered #RAAUGHGHGHGHGHGH ROWENNAAAAAAAAA (<- insane)#she's fucking everything. her corruption her bitterness her resignation #'oh you can make your inquisitor in veilguard uwu' i am about to make a woman so hellbent on killing and being killed #her only way out anymore is to DIE and she KNOWS IT. and she's willing to risk that if she can take bitches down with her #she would fistfight ghilan'nain . she doesn't give a fuck anymore. she said what's she gonna do? kill me? i'll bite her nose off #again im so sorry for the actual novel i gave u . im very unwell about my ocs both from my wips and from other media #my ocs

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babygirl-ocs-askblog · 1 year

Note

Oh Witza…

I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you upset over my question. I deeply apologize if I’ve brought up some bad memories. /Gen

To Poppe, have you and Margarita (Hope you don’t mind me asking this Mod, feel free to not answer though if not 😊) known each other before the events of the Tower or only during it?

"N..Nono! Prithee, do not apologise! I just rambled on..it's not your fault, dearie.."

"Ugh..people are askin' about margarita again? Fiiine..I met him while I was TRYING to wipe or Pepo orwhateverhisnameis for good but ohh noo, here comes his lil boyfriend to save him! So annoying that guy..So we met in the tower, I had NO idea 'bout em before that!"

(btw margarita is an oc made by my friend @margarita-the-pizzeria-worker !!! -mod)

#poppeposting #pizza tower #witzaposting #pizza tower oc #my art #oc #send asks

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kahran042 · 1 year

Text

Adrian's Adventures in Time!

Lately, I've been wondering what one of my OCs would do if they were chosen to take the place of the protagonist in Pepper's Adventures in Time, so I decided to go with Adrian "The Anti-Fraggle" Bernhardt because I can't imagine any of my OCs who's less like Pepper, but still has a beloved pet. I hope I didn't make him too unlikable here, but considering who he's interacting with… at any rate, enjoy, and let me know what you think!

Adrian: Uh-oh. Liberty Bell? Hare Krishnas? This looks familiar. I'm… trapped in Pepper's Adventures in Time, perhaps one of the worst edutainment products ever released! NOOOOO! Narrator: Out of curiosity, how do you know about Pepper's Adventures in Time? Adrian: Mom got it for Kiera when she was nine. She didn't like it, either, and we made fun of it together once.

Narrator: FALSE. No way! These guys are totally un-colonial. The Hare Krishnas, a cult stressing devotion to the Hindu god Krishna, first appeared in the United States in 1966, and they DIDN'T crack the Liberty Bell. The Liberty Bell was actually cracked at the foundry or forge. Adrian: No, it wasn't. They wouldn't have let a cracked or broken bell out of the forge. The Liberty Bell was forged by abolitionists to be rung whenever a slave was freed, but because said abolitionists were almost as cynical as yours truly, it was made of substandard materials, and it was cracked by its own clapper while being rung sometime in the early 19th century. Narrator: Well, excuse me, Professor Know-It-All. By the way, that was a demonstration of the Truth Icon. Use it often! Now back to Pep--er, Adrian's Adventures in Time…

Poor Richard: Prithee, lass--my, but thy clothing is odd! Oh, I am rude. I do not mean to offend, stranger. Prithee, have mercy! Adrian: Okay, you have to be one of the ugliest people I've ever seen. And I'm not a lass. Poor Richard: I have commited no crime, lass, and my name's not O'Kay. My ancestry is English, not Irish. Poor Richard, at thy service. Adrian: If you haven't commited a crime, then why are you in the stocks? Poor Richard: Well, 'tis a long story, but I am at thy mercy. You see, something awful has happened to Benjamin Franklin. He once led the people of our fair city to be wise and good and frugal. Now he gives them ridiculous, silly advice, and they follow like a flock of sheep! Adrian: If you ask me, it's what they deserve for never learning to think for themselves. Poor Richard: Foolishness and frivolity rule our once fair colony, thanks to Ben! Adrian: Ben probably isn't totally innocent, but like I said, if the colonists weren't so stupid, none of this would have happened. Poor Richard: For pointing out their folly, my friends and neighbors have clapped me into these stocks. Please, lass, I need thy help most desperately! Adrian: For the third time, I'm a lad, not a lass. And why should I let you out? You could be lying about being innocent. Poor Richard: But thou must! Adrian: Well, maybe I just don't feel like it. Poor Richard: But thou must! Adrian: This is starting to seem familiar. Poor Richard: But thou must! Adrian: … Poor Richard: But thou must! Adrian: … Poor Richard: But thou must! Adrian: …FINE. I'll let you out. does so

Narrator: It's Terra! Twenty-two ounces of musteline attitude, and LOTS of teeth!

Watchman: Here now! I saw what you did! You let that criminal go! Adrian: To be fair, he wore me down with incessant "but thou must"-ing. Terra: starts sniffing the watchman's feet Watchman: I'm the King's own watchman, I am, and you're under arrest! Adrian: For what? For tampering with the King's justice, for outlandish dress, and--HEY! Yer a girl, are ye not?!? Adrian: Trust me, you're not the first person to make that mistake. Watchman: Ye can't fool me, you're a girl! You're also charged with wearing trousers in public! C'mere, you! Let's just empty those pockets! Watchman: tries to grab Adrian Adrian: dodges the grab, then throws the watchman to the ground with a swift nagewaza Narrator: Adrian wins. Flawless victory. Adrian picks up Terra, who is sniffing at the unconscious watchman Adrian: And now we just need to find some way back to our own time. C'mon, girl. Wait, what's that!? A carriage pulls up, and Adrian hides in a nearby alleyway. Suddenly, a cat appears out of nowhere, and Terra leaps out of Adrian's arms and starts doing the weasel war dance Adrian: Terra! NO! Terra bumps her head on the side of the carriage and faints Pugh: Oh, bother, what is it now? Some snot-nosed colonial brat, I suppose. I just had these wheels polished, you know. Percy: It appears to be some sort of cat…snake…thing, General Pugh, sir. Ima: A kitty! Oooooh! The watchman enters Watchman: 'Ay! Has anyone seen a strangely clad young girl about? She's a felon, and that rat-like creature over there is her accomplice! Adrian (thinking): Wait. Didn't I just kick that guy's ass? Percy: Well that hardly matters, does it, you malodorous fellow. That cat snake is dead. Watchman: It is not! It's just stunned, it is! Percy: See here now, man, that creature is stiff as a board! Watchman: That creature was stiff before it ever hit your carriage! See there, he's looking at you! Hello, whatever kind of creature you are! Percy: It is NOT looking at me because it CAN'T look at me! That cat snake has perished! It is deceased! Defunct! It is an EX-CAT SNAKE! Adrian (thinking): Judging by their desecration of a classic comedy routine, I'm assuming that these are the bad guys. Hope Terra's all right. Terra gets up Watchman: See! I told you! I told you! Percy: Oh, why don't you just shut your gob and find this mysterious girl, you fatwit! Watchman: Yes, sir! Right away, sir!

Adrian: Why hasn't anyone done anything about that bastard General Pugh? Quibble: Because everyone in this town is a spineless coward, that's why. Have you ever seen more worthless men in your life? Victor: Who asked you, toots? Anyway, there WERE some people who wanted to get rid of him. Especially Ben Franklin! But when he changed his mind and said "Everybody do your own thing", I guess we all changed our minds, too. Quibble: That would be a nice theory, dear, if you had a mind to change. Adrian: Hey, you stole my line! At any rate, you aren't doing your own thing. You're still marching in lockstep with Ben. Victor: Zip it, babe. Quibble: In your dreams, weasel boy. Adrian: What's with all your weasel-bashing? If Terra were here, I'm sure that she would be deeply offended.

Adrian: What's your name? Quibble: I'm Quibble Quabble, and this thing is the love of my life, Vicar Victor Bicker. Adrian: I'm sorry to hear that. Your parents must have really hated you… both of you, actually. Victor: I can speak for myself, dearest. Quibble: Put a cork in it, dearest. Adrian (thinking): Yeah, yeah. Just fuck and make up, already.

Adrian: What's up with Ben Franklin? I've heard that he might be disturbed. Quibble: Oh, Ben's not disturbed! He's really cool. He's the one who taught us to, you know, let all your feelings out. Adrian: …Because Ben would normally support repressing one's emotions? Victor: "Ben"? "Cool"? You like him, don't you, Quibby! You have a crush on Ben Franklin! I knew it. I just knew it! Quibble: Helloo! Why don't you come and live in this world with us, Victor? Ben is married! Geez. Adrian: Never stopped Ben.

Adrian: Why hasn't anyone done anything about the Pughs? Quibble: Hey, they're a pain and all, but most of us have our own problems. We don't have time to save the world from British generals, you dig? Victor: What, you're too busy doing your nails? You have no sense of social injustice, Quibby. Quibble: Oh, go tell it to the chickens in the henhouse, weasel-boy! Adrian: Seriously, at least TRY to come up with some new insults.

Narrator: TRUE. Most colonial women sewed clothes for themselves and their families, but upper-class women often had their sewing done elsewhere. They had really important things to do, like painting china and learning to dance. Adrian: But would a colonial shop really be called "Ye Olde Sew and Sew"?

Narrator: TRUE and FALSE. Colonial bakeries certainly had signs, but they didn't have names like "Ye Olde Sprouts and Rice". The concept of health food wasn't around yet. Adrian: So, you'll point out the anachronism of a health food store in 1764, but not the inherent anachronism of a store in olden times being called "Ye Olde Whatever"? Narrator: Come to think of it, that's actually a wicked good point. Adrian: Thanks. Wait a minute. What do you mean, "actually"?

Tattle: Hello? Oh, 'tis a fine young girl. Can I help you, lass? Adrian: Where do I start? I'm lost in time, the Pughs stole my ferret, everyone seems to think that I'm a girl, and I don't know what to do. Tattle: Now, just relax, lassie. My name is Tattle Taleteller, and I know everything about everyone! Just tell me what you want to know! Adrian: I said this to that other lady, too, but your parents must have really hated you, even more than mine hate me. Also, I am not a "lassie". I'm 100% man, despite my androgynous charm.

Adrian: Have the Pughs always been like this? Tattle: Oh, yes! When old Hugh Pugh I was here, things were even worse. I guess we're just lucky that Hugh Pugh II spends so much time powdering his wig instead of making us miserable! Adrian (thinking): That has got to be an innuendo. Wait, did they even have innuendos in colonial times? No, they must have had them. After all, Shakespeare used them.

Adrian: Ima Pugh stole my ferret! Have you heard anything about that? Tattle: What's a ferret? Adrian: It's pretty much hamster hardware running cat software. Tattle: Oh, that's right. I heard just a little while ago that the Pughs got a new pet. I'm so sorry, little girl! You'll forget about him, in time. Adrian: In case you haven't noticed, I'm not a girl. And my ferret isn't a "him", for that matter. At any rate, I can't just forget her. She's one of the four things I love. Tattle: Oh, didn't you know? Animals who go into Penn Mansion NEVER come out, dearie. At least not…the same way.

Adrian: What can you tell me about Ben Franklin? Tattle: Ben is perfectly fine. After all, he did give us the excellent Doctrine of Personal Mellowness and all. But that's not the whole story, no ma'am! I heard that Ben and his wife Deborah are having problems! Yes ma'am, she's always leaving the house to go somewhere! SOME people say she's seeing another man. Adrian: Hey, what's a relationship without a bit of mutual adultery? Tattle: SOME people say it's that Poor Richard! Adrian: Poor Richard? Having sex? With another human being? Right, and I'm Matthias Corvinus, King of Hungary and Croatia.

Narrator: TRUE. A colonial bakery might have been run by a woman. It didn't happen that often, but it wasn't unheard of. Adrian: Yes, but that's not a woman. It's some sort of anthropomorphic pig creature.

Adrian: Can you help me? Goody: Certainly, child! What do you need? Some soy flour? Some tofu? A nice cabbage cookie, perhaps? Adrian: No, thank you. shudders Goody: Well, you don't seem to be affected by the mass lunacy that's plagued this colony! I believe you actually shuddered at the mention of tofu! Adrian: It was the cabbage cookies that made me shudder. Honestly, I kind of… like tofu if it's cooked right. I'm guessing you haven't been affected by this "mass lunacy" either, then? Goody: No, thank heavens. Nice to meet you. I'm Goody Gumdrops, and I own this once fine establishment. If there's anything I can do for you, let me know. Adrian (thinking): And that's three! Three women in this town with unbelievably stupid names! At least this one seems nice enough.

Adrian: Is it true that Ben Franklin is responsible for the weirdness going on here? Goody: It is! He came into town dressed like a fool, all covered in beads. Then he started passing out his foolish Doctrine of Personal Mellowness. Adrian: Hey! Don't insult fools. That's the freakin' 0th Major Arcana of the Tarot you're talking about. Goody: My friends and neighbors BELIEVED it! Before I knew it, they were ALL dressed like Ben! Adrian: Has it occurred to you that your friends and neighbors might be mindless sheeple who can't think for themselves? Goody: Then they started talking strangely. Everything was "Groovy". And it gets worse! They all stopped working, and developed bad habits almost instantly! Now they're all as worthless as a bunch of lame oxen! Adrian: Sounds like it's butchering time. Goody: You seem like a sensible lass. You should go to Ben's house and try to talk him out of this foolishness. May you have more luck than I did. Adrian: I'm not a lass. And wouldn't it be a better idea to teach these idiots to actually think instead of just blindly following what Ben tells them?

Adrian: Was this always a health-food store? Goody: Heavens, no! You could get anything you wanted here, from strawberry tea cakes, to airy cream puffs, to chocolate bonbons! Adrian: Anything except healthy food, apparently. realizes he's drooling, wipes his mouth Goody: When the town went mad, they stopped eating sugar! All they wanted was tofu and brown rice! They BURNED my bonbon recipe! Adrian: Yeah, totally sounds like the "let it be" attitude of the hippie movement. These are clearly not normal hippies. They're poorly-written strawman hippies created with the express purpose of initiating a tedious fetch quest! Goody: They even made me change the name of my store from "Goody's Delectable Delights" to "Ye Olde Sprouts and Rice". HMMPH! Adrian: Both of those names sound pretty anachronistic, if you ask me. Goody: I can't even get chocolate anymore. Oh, how I miss the smell of baking chocolate! Adrian: By "baking chocolate", do you mean chocolate made for baking or chocolate that's being baked?

Narrator: A swarm of pesky flies are buzzing around Goody's shop. Adrian: Shouldn't that be "A swarm of pesky flies IS buzzing around Goody's shop"? And isn't "pesky flies" redundant?

Adrian: Did you say you were a gamer? Roland: Indeed I am, lass! My name's Roland Bettmuch, and games are my life. Interested in a game of chance, or a game of skill? Poker, perhaps? Adrian: You do know that poker won't be invented until 1829, right? And I'm not a lass. Roland: Oh, drat. Those uncool Pughs took my deck of cards. Darts? No, they took those too. Let's see, what do I have… Jacks? No. Chess? No. Checkers? No. Horsehoes? No… Hey, I know, do you have a horse? Adrian: No, but-- Roland: Total bummer! My aura is turning dark! Adrian (thinking): ♪ Without your light, and I will sing no requiem tonight. ♪ Roland: Oh, wait, I know. We'll play marbles. I've got them right here… Adrian: This had better not be going where I think it's going. Roland: AAAAAH! I'VE… Adrian: Finish that sentence, and you'll regret it. Roland: If you find them, let me know, okay? Later, Cosmic Cat.

Adrian: Here are your stupid marbles. That will be one shilling, please. Roland: Ha ha ha! You are a little sharpie, aren't you, kid! Tell you what. You give me the marbles, and I'll teach you to gamble with the best of 'em. Adrian: No. No money, no marbles. Roland: MONEY?!? But kid, where's the sport in that? Where's the action? Where's the thrill of the Game? Don't you have the Game in your heart? Adrian: Yes. My games are Magic: The Gathering and Super Smash Bros. I need a shilling to get back to a time when those games exist. Now hand it over. Roland: Oh, all right. Here's a shilling. It's all I have, you little robber. Adrian: Thanks. Roland: Oh, go fly a kite. flicks a shilling to Adrian, who catches it Adrian: Way to get crap past the radar! I hate to say it, but thumbs up.

Adrian (thinking): Wow, and I thought that baker lady was fat. Lee: Yes? (Chomp munch) What can I do for you, lass? (Belch!) Would you perhaps like to groove on a nice leg of lamb? (Urp) Adrian: No, thanks. I'm not really hungry, and I'm not a lass. What I'd-- Lee: WHAT?!? Not HUNGRY? (Whuff!) Good grief, girl, how can you not be HUNGRY? I'm hungry all the time. Adrian: Like I said, I'm not a girl, and I'm too sad to eat. My ferret has been kidnapped. Lee: Hmmph! I never understood the point of having a pet. They just eat all your food, and they never bring you more. (Ack) But I suppose you are upset. Poor lass. Adrian: For the third time, I'm a guy. And you could help me by answering a few questions… Lee: Oh, certainly! (Belch!) By the way, my name is General Lee Stuffed, retired from His Majesty's Royal Army. So what do you want to know about, lass? Adrian (to himself): One. As I believe I've told this idiot three times now, I'm not a lass. Two. It's the British Army, not the Royal Army. Three. It's good to know that unbelievably stupid names aren't reserved for women in this town.

Adrian: My ferret was stolen by the Pughs! Penny: I'm telling you, girl, a person has to protect his or her property. I suggest you get a cannon for home protection. Adrian: Guns are for idiots who are too stupid and lazy to learn to use real weapons or martial arts. Besides, I don't want to hurt anyone. I just want my ferret back and to go back to my own time. And I'm a boy, not a girl. Penny: Oh, you can forget that. Those Pughs never let go of an animal, once they have it. Totally bad karma, little dudette. Adrian: If you're going to get my gender wrong, you can at least learn the correct vocabulary. The feminine form of dude is "dudine", not "dudette".

Adrian: My ferret was just snatched right out from under my nose. I don't know what to do. Are there any cops in this town? Penny: Cops? I don't follow your groove, kid. What's that mean? Adrian: Oh, you know, people who are nominally intended to make sure people aren't breaking the law, but are in fact more invested in upholding the status quo. Penny: Oh, THOSE cats! Well, there are those awful redcoat sentries all over the place--have you ever noticed how they all look alike? Adrian: Well, that is kind of the purpose of uniforms, hence the name. Penny: Anyway, General Pugh owns those dudes. They're useless. Adrian (sarcastically): A general commanding soldiers? What a twist. Penny: So is the Watchman, for that matter. The Pughs bribed him as soon as they got to the colonies, and he does anything they want. Adrian: Does the Watchman have a name, or is he just "the Watchman"? At any rate, I kicked his ass once, and I can probably do it again if needed. Narrator: NOTE--The Watchman will not be seen again for the rest of this game, so it will not be needed.

Adrian: Can you tell me anything about yourself? Penny: Well, as long as you're not trying to sell me anything, I guess I can. My husband's name is Eggbert. We own this carpentry shop. Adrian: Eggbert Pyncher? It's a terrible name, but at least it's not a pun. Penny: We used to spend our money on all kinds of foolish things, like food and clothes and things. Now I've discovered the virtues of saving! Adrian (thinking): Lesson learned. Thrift will turn you into a timophiliac straw miser. Penny: I can make a week's worth of soup out of one cabbage! I save every penny, every single one! Adrian (sarcastically): And I'm sure what you do with those pennies is totally family-friendly. Penny: Ben Franklin says it's okay, so it's okay! Adrian: Isn't Ben Franklin the one who said "A penny saved is a penny earned"? Of course, Adrian M. Bernhardt is the one who added "…but you can't buy jack shit with a penny" to that particular pearl of wisdom.

Narrator: The brass plaque by the collar says: "My beloved Fluffum Foo, All I did was shampoo you. Shave your paws, Pierce your nose. Put rings upon your little toes, So why oh why did you run away, And jump into the sea that day?" Terra may only have a tiny little ferret brain, but even she knows that Pennsylvania is landlocked, so she wonders how Fluffum Foo jumped into the sea that day.

Adrian: Can I see your husband? Deborah: No. Adrian: But I really need to see him. Deborah: No. Adrian: But, you don't understand. I'm trapped in 1764, and my ferret's been kidnapped by the Pughs! Somehow, I know that I need Mr. Franklin's help to rescue her and get back to my own time. Deborah: Lass, I'm truly sorry about your "ferret", whatever that is, and there WAS a time when Ben could have helped you, but not now. He can't even help himself. He's gone 'round the bend, filling the colonists' head with all sorts of silly mush. I'm allowing him no visitors. If I let you in to see him, he'd just be a bad influence on you, too. Adrian: As I believe I've told everyone in this fucking colony by now, I'm not a lass. And since I'm not a dumbass like the rest of the colonists, I could be a good influence on Ben. But you'll never know unless you let. Me. In. Deborah: If you could help Ben, get him interested in his experiments, perhaps I'd let you in. I'm sorry, but you have to leave now. Goodbye. Adrian: How the fuck am I supposed to help Ben if I'm not even allowed to see him? Deborah: That's your problem. slams the door in Adrian's face

Adrian: Please, Mrs. Franklin, if you'll just let me-- Deborah: ABSOLUTELY NOT! slams the door in Adrian's face Adrian (thinking): Are all women named Deborah such bitches? Because she reminds me of a slightly less evil version of my mother. Come to think of it, she looks sort of like that Poor Richard guy, but not quite as ugly. Hmm…

Narrator: TRUE. Ben loved sunlight and fresh air, and would never live anywhere that he couldn't have a window. Many people in the 18th century felt that outside air, particularly night air was bad for you and caused illness. Ben didn't believe that. Sometimes he took what he called "air baths", where he would lie outside in the shade naked. Adrian: Hey, my girlfriend Karin does that… except that she's not naked… and she does it at night… and she calls it "moonbathing". So, I guess it's completely different, then. Narrator: Shame that she's not naked, eh? Wait, is she hot? Adrian: Frankly, it's none of your business whether or not my girlfriend is hot. I love her, she loves me for some reason, and that's all that matters. She's one of the three reasons I want to get back to the present so badly. Narrator: What are the other two, if you don't mind my asking? Adrian: My sister Kiera and my car Alcyone. Narrator: You have a sister? Is SHE hot? Adrian: …She's FIFTEEN. If I could find you, I would punch you in the face right now.

Narrator: For the answers to the following questions, look in your documentation on page 19. Adrian: Ah, copy protection. My old arch-enemy. Narrator: I thought I was your arch-enemy? Adrian: I have a life outside of you, unnamed narrator.

Adrian: Thanks again for dinner. Young Ben: I'm glad you enjoyed the mush, my friend. Mother would have made roast beef if she had been expecting you. Adrian: Pro tip…to make it seem more appetizing, call it "oatmeal" or "porridge" instead of "mush". Young Ben: 'Pro tip'? You say things strangely, friend. But speaking of sweating, I'd better start making candles. The Night Watch put in a huge order this morning, and they'll be expecting them tonight. Ugh, the smell! I HATE candlemaking! Adrian: Night Watch? Sounds pretty cool, kind of like something out of a fantasy novel. Young Ben: The Watch will pick them up here. I'll just light the fires, get out the wicks, and then-- OH, NO! Adrian: What? Young Ben: Shh! I forgot to buy wicks in town today! My father'll skin my hide if he finds out! I'll just sneak back out for a few minutes, and-- Adrian (thinking): …'Skin my hide'? Paging the Department of Redundancy Department. Josiah: Benjamin? Young Ben: (Yikes!) Y-Y-Yes, father? Josiah: You did buy wicks when you were in town, didn't you? Young Ben: Uh, well, I… Josiah: Benjamin Franklin, if you forgot again, so help me, I'll switch you 'til you can't sit down for a fortnight! Adrian (thinking): Wow, that's pretty damn harsh. And I thought my parents were bad! Young Ben: Uh, just a moment, father, I'm looking for them… Friend, I don't suppose you have any wick, do you? I'll be eternally grateful if you can help me! Adrian (thinking): Yeah, right. 'Eternally grateful'… and I'm a sea monkey. But yet, I can't help feeling an urge to help him out. After all, his dad makes my mom look like… Karin.

Adrian: Some people might say Ben Franklin is the cause of all this, but I'd say that it's more the fact that the other colonists are spineless idiots who can't even use the chamber pot without Ben showing them how to do it. That being said, was his change gradual or sudden? Poor Richard: Oh, it was sudden! The old gent fell over, and when he got up he had all these wild ideas in his head! Uh, or so his wife tells me. He's my--my oldest friend. His plight grieves me more than I can say, as does the fact that I have to speak against him publicly.

Adrian: Is there any way you could let me have that key? I need it to rescue my ferret and get out of this crappy-ass time period. Poor Richard: I will give thee the key, if thou will help me distribute these proverbs. I fear the time is growing short. Adrian: Proverbs? You mean "clichés", right? Poor Richard: A proverb is a saying that points out the error of a person's ways. I hope they'll cure my fellow colonists of their follies. Will'st thou help me? Adrian: I have a better idea. You give me the key, and I don't snap your neck like a toothpick. Poor Richard: Such is my offer, lass. Adrian: For the millionth time, I am not a lass. And there is no way in fucking hell that I'm brainwashing these idiots with your stupid "proverbs". They're already brainless enough, thank you. Poor Richard: Read each proverb, and judge which colonist could learn the most from it. Adrian: No. You see, according to string theory, time is composed of fixed points, so altering history would only create a secondary timeline where America is still part of the United Kingdom, and my timeline would remain unaffected. I have no interest in how this particular timeline turns out, so I have no investment in forcibly "improving" the colonists. I just want to save my ferret and go home, and I need that key to do so. Poor Richard: But thou must! Adrian: Fine, fine, I'll do it.

Adrian: Here. It's a proverb. I'd suggest giving it away. That's what I did. snickers Quibble: A present? For me? Oh, how sweet! Let's see what it says. "Quarrels never could last long, if on one side only lay the wrong." What's THAT supposed to mean? Is it supposed to mean that Vicar (sic) and I are BOTH wrong?!? Well, that's ridiculous! That's stupid! That's…that's true. Oh, dear! (Sob!) Oh, Victor, how could I have been so mean to you? Victor: Oh, cookie ears, I'm SO ashamed! I behaved like a beast! (Sniff!) Quibble: Victor-poo! Victor and Quibble embrace Victor: Quibby-wips! Quibble: I'm sorry, sweetums! I wuv you! Victor: No, I'M sorry, sugar-toes! I wuv you, too! Adrian: Glad that Karin and I are never like that in public. retches

Adrian: I finished passing out the proverbs. Now key me. Poor Richard: Did thee, lass, truly! Tell me, did they work as I hoped? Adrian: Yes. Frankly, it was wicked scary how quickly the people realized their faults after reading them. It's like the "proverbs" were actually some sort of mind-altering charms or something. Poor Richard: The news gladdens my heart! Here, I have finished with the next three. I pray they are as successful as the first trio! Adrian: Seriously? More proverbs? Oh, well. Might as well brainwash some more colonists. But while I'm here, could I ask you a few questions, Deborah? Poor Richard: Deborah? Who is Deborah Franklin? My name is Poor Richard, and I have never heard of this Deborah Franklin woman! Adrian: Suuure…

Adrian: Have you heard anything about my ferret? Poor Richard: I've heard nothing, but if I were thee, I would try to save him. Terrible things happen to the cats Ima casts her beady eyes upon! Adrian: Um… SHE'S a ferret, not a cat. Poor Richard: Any animal that is not a dog is a cat to me.

Adrian: Have you heard anything about the Pughs? Poor Richard: Lass, it is the Pughs that I fear will end my proverb-carving endeavors, once and for all! Adrian (thinking): And good riddance, if you ask me. Poor Richard: I'll not waste my time talking about them. Adrian: And yet, you just did.

Narrator: This proverb says: "Early to Bed and early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise." In other words: "You'll do well if you work hard and don't party too much!" Adrian: Counterpoint: "Early to Rise and early to bed, makes a man healthy, but socially dead." In other words: "Working hard is fine, but if you don't make time for fun, your life will be dull and empty." Narrator: …Good point.

Throckmorton: Hey, little dudette! You wanna play? Adrian: Thanks, but no thanks. I need to find my ferret. You haven't seen her, have you? Throckmorton: No, I haven't seen her. Don't worry so much, little sister. Maybe your ferret will find peace, love, and happiness with the Pughs. Adrian: That's what I'm afraid of.

Throckmorton: Wow, that was heavy! Do you think she means us, Marty? I mean, we don't usually go down 'til the sun comes up! Marty: I totally think so, brother. I feel way stupid. Throckmorton: You're right, brother. We have been a couple of silly dudes. I think we should get back to our studies, you dig? Marty: I hear you, dudette. We've wasted too much time already. We thank you from the bottom of our hearts, little lady. You've shown us the error of our ways. Adrian: …I'm not a "dudette" or a "lady". As I believe I've told everyone in this town at least once, I'm a guy. Marty: (Sigh.) I just wish I knew what to do about the Pughs. I wish Ben would TELL us what to do next! Adrian: Showing that you have officially learned absolutely nothing. Marty: Ah, well. Let's go, brother! The world of medicine awaits us!

Narrator: This proverb says: "Beware the Gossip who speaks ill of thy neighbors. With thy neighbors she likely speaks ill of thee." In other words: "If somebody tells you gossip about someone else, you can BET they're spreading gossip about you, too!" Adrian: Why does only the proverb about gossip use "she", anyway? Sexist, much? Narrator: What did you expect? It's 1764. Adrian: …Good point.

Adrian: Here. You're next on the brainwashing list. Tattle: Oh, boy, what is it? Somebody's mail? Papers from somebody's garbage pail? Let me see! Beware the Gossip who speaks ill of they (sic) neighbors. With thy neighbors she likely speaks ill of thee." Oh, what is this? I'M not a gossip! You can't possibly mean ME! Adrian: Technically, I don't mean anyone. The village idiot is forcing me to hand these out in exchange for a key. Tattle: I never talk about anyone! It's not MY fault that my neighbors are all weird! Adrian: Hey, I'm not arguing with you there. If I spend one more second with those people, I'll go insane, which is why I need to get back to my own time. Tattle: Did I tell Nellie to be a grouch? NO! Did I make Penny be such a miser she won't even buy food for her husband? NO! Adrian: Why can't her husband buy food for himself, anyway? Tattle: Did I--Oh, dear… I…I guess I might be a gossip, after all. Oh, I'm so confused! Excuse me, little girl. I want to think about this. Adrian: You know I'm not a girl, right?

Adrian: throws a proverb through Nellie's window Heads up, bitch. Nellie: So what is THIS? One of Poor Richard's stupid proverbs? No thank you, young lady! In fact, you just tell Poor Richard to come stand under my window! I feel like bouncing potatoes off of somebody's head today! Heh heh heh! Adrian (thinking): I hate to admit it, but I'm starting to like this lady.

Narrator: This proverb says: "Wealth is not his who has it, but his who enjoys it." In other words: "Don't waste your money, but DO have fun with it! Don't be cheap!" Adrian: Wow, one of these that I actually completely agree with! Money wants to be spent, after all.

Adrian: Here. You might be interested in this. Penny: What is it? Gold? Silver? Oboy, Oboy! --Shoot, it's just a proverb! Oh, I guess I'll read it. Here goes: "Wealth is not his who has it, but his who enjoys it." Now what's THAT supposed to mean? You can't mean ME. I enjoy my money. Adrian: Yes. I've noticed, and frankly, it's disturbing just how much you "enjoy" said money. Penny: I'm not a miser! I'm not a skinflint! I'm-- Oh, who am I trying to kid? Moths fly out of my purse every time I open it! (Boo hoo!) I'm a cranky old miser! Well, I'm gonna change my ways! What will I do first? Maybe I'll go shopping! Yeah, groovy! I just wish I knew what to do about the Pughs. If only Ben would give me some advice! Adrian: Wasn't Ben the one who told you to save your money? Penny: Oh, well. I'll see you later, little girl. I'm going out on the town! Adrian: …Is it really that hard to tell?

Adrian: This had better be the last batch of proverbs. Poor Richard: What?!? Oh, tis (sic) thee, lass! Adrian: Just give me the proverbs so that I can brainwash the rest of the colonists. Or you could hand over the key right now and save us both a lot of trouble. Poor Richard: I'm nervous because the Redcoats have been watching me, that's all. Here, take the last two proverbs. Off with you, before they arrest you as well! Adrian: And then I get the key, right? Poor Richard: Lass, thou art kind as well as brave, but I must stay and close up my stand. But fear not, for I am quick and quiet as a shadow! They'll never catch me. Adrian: Oh, really. You didn't look so shadowy with your head stuck in the town stocks. And I'm not a lass. Do I have to strip naked to prove it or something? Poor Richard: Ha, ha! Well, I've learned from my mistakes, thou sharp-tongued rascal, so off with thee! Adrian: How come no one else in this town talks like you, anyway? And why don't you stand under Nellie's window for a while? I'm sure she'd enjoy it.

Narrator: This proverb says: "Tart words make no Friends: A spoonful of honey will catch more flies than a Gallon of Vinegar." In other words: "Don't say mean things to people. They'll like you better if you're nice." Adrian: Who the fuck wants flies? Besides, you'll catch even more flies with a Lump of Manure, but you won't hear any proverbs about that.

Adrian: throws a proverb through Nellie's window Here you go. Nellie: What is it, what is it? Oh, it's just some stupid wooden carving. Let's see what it says… "Tart words make no Friends: A spoonful of honey will catch more flies than a Gallon of Vinegar." Oh, dear. I suppose this means me. It must! Oh, no, how could I have been so mean to everybody? I'm sorry, little girl… Adrian: Boy. Nellie: Sorry, little boy. I've been just awful to you. Adrian: I'm eighteen. Nellie: What? Adrian: I'm eighteen. I'm not "little". Nellie: Well, I can't just call you "boy". Adrian: Well, you could say "Adrian". Nellie: I didn't know you were called Adrian. Adrian: Well, you didn't bother to find out, did you? Nellie: Excuse me, I think I need to go inside and figure out how to apologize to everybody. Oh, if only Ben could give me some advice! Adrian: You want some advice? Try thinking for yourself for once. Nellie: Ah, well. I'll see you later!

Adrian (thinking): Oh, no! Someone trashed Poor Richard's stand before I got a chance to! Come to think of it, where is the little prick, anyway? And, more importantly, who cares?

Narrator: That's a good idea, but there isn't enough water in the bucket to fill the jar. Why don't you look for water somewhere else? Adrian: …So, there's too much water to carry, but not enough to fill one jar? Guess it's kind of like the aquarium in Zork Zero. Narrator: Huh? Adrian: If you ever get a chance to play Zork Zero, go to the Parlor in Flatheadia, save your game, and type "take aquarium", then "enter aquarium". Then restore your saved game and enter those two commands in reverse.

Adrian: What are you working on, Sally? Sally: Oh, 'tis nothing. Just a sampler. Adrian: A sampler? Sally: Tis (sic) a bit of cloth, embroidered with a saying. This one says "Honor thy Father and Mother". (Sigh) Believe me, I'm trying. Adrian: Hey, at least you don't have my parents… or your grandfather, for that matter.

Narrator: Adrian only likes cabbages when they're made into kimchi. There's NO WAY he's going to take one. Adrian: Well, at least they aren't radishes.

Narrator: It would be rude of Adrian to go back into the Franklins' private rooms. Adrian: So? In case you haven't noticed by now, I'm not exactly a polite person. Narrator: All right. We were just too cheap and lazy to make a set for the private rooms, and there's nothing in there that you need, anyway. Are you satisfied now? Adrian: Yes, very.

Adrian tries to use a tomato on himself to fake an injury Narrator: Adrian doesn't want to get tomato juice on his favorite hoodie. Adrian: Good point. I guess they had to get me into those stupid colonial clothes somehow. All right, but I'm changing back as soon as I'm done with this mission. Narrator: Deal.

Adrian: returns the colonial clothes to the clothesline where he found them, albeit with a tomato-juice stain on the shirt, then changes back into his hoodie, jeans, and headband

Ben: Okay, child, let me clue you in on what's gonna happen! With this experiment, we're going to prove that lightning is actually MADE of electricity! That cosmic lightning is gonna be drawn to this kite--because lightning can't resist anything that flies around next to it, you dig? Adrian: "Cosmic lightning"? Sounds like a good name for a rock band. Ben: Besides, lightning loves silk. Fabric of the gods, remember? Once the lightning gets close to the kite, the electricity will groove its way down the string, and hit this key, you dig? Then we put the key on the bottle, and we have a jar full of lightning! Totally groovy, huh? Adrian: I have to admit, that's actually… pretty cool. It's literally catching lightning in a bottle. Ben: Of course, if lightning STRIKES the kite, things will get a little hotter! In fact, we may end up looking like baked yams! Here it comes… Yahoo! Adrian: …"Yahoo"?

Adrian and Ben are surveying the lightning-struck remains of Ben's hot tub Adrian: What a mess. Ben: Ah, well. 'Twas a noble experiment, anyhow. Good gracious! Is that the "hot tub" I've been spending all my time in? Adrian: Yes… or, at least, it was. Kind of a shame, really - it was a pretty cool hot tub. Ben: Aye, 'tis nothing but a mess now. Help yourself to anything you may find in the wreckage, lad. Deborah will have my head if I don't clean this up soon. Adrian: Thanks. I hate to say it, but you look… better. Ben: Better? I suppose so…At least I'm no longer wearing those ridiculous clothes. Adrian: I wouldn't say "ridiculous". If nothing else, it looked pretty comfy to me. Yellow isn't my color, so I wouldn't wear that exact garment, but if something similar were available in a dark and/or cool color, I'd wear that. Maybe not in public, though… Ben: Oh, I can't wait to show my darling Deborah that I've regained my senses! Excuse me, boy. Adrian: You know I have a name, right? It's Adrian. Adrian Bernhardt. Oh, well. At least someone actually recognizes that I'm a guy. Ben: Deborah! Oh, Mrs. Franklin! Adrian: …You call your wife Mrs. Franklin?

Adrian: I'm here to get you out of here, if only so that Ben will stop moping and help me rescue my ferret. Poor Richard: Get me out of here! Hmmph! And how do you propose to do THAT? Those guards may be idiots, but they're not fool enough to let me out! I'm going to rot in here, and I hope the man who's responsible--that pig-headed Ben Franklin--rots somewhere else for all eternity. Adrian: You mean hell? Poor Richard: He's lost his mind, girl, and he's taking the whole of the British colonies with him! Adrian: I'm a boy, as I've told you more times than I can remember. At least you're talking like a normal person now… Poor Richard: My mother always warned me about him, but did I believe her? Oh, no! Of course not! BAH! Lazy, good for nothing…! Sitting around in that hot tub all day…! Never a thought about what he's doing to fair Philadelphia…! Never a thought about what he's doing to ME! HMMPH!!!

Adrian: I've uncovered your secret, and am, frankly, surprised that I'm apparently the only one. You're really Deborah Franklin in disguise! Wait… you have a daughter, which means that you've had sex. And since you're also Poor Richard, I guess that makes me Matthias Corvinus, King of Hungary and Croatia. Deborah: Oh, so you know who I am, do you? And what of it? Those fools out there will find out soon enough as well, and wait till you see the headlines! "Wife of Famous Inventor Arrested while Dressed as a Man!" The British will get a fine hoot out of that, and then they'll stretch my neck, just the same! Adrian: But…we can escape now! All you have to do is-- Deborah: What would be the point? To go back to my worthless husband? I'd sooner hang than see that pitiful excuse for a man again. Wretched beast! Rotten old ninnyhammer! Addle-pated fatwit! Mangy old goose! Pathetic waterlogged warthog! Adrian (thinking): What does Ben see in this bitch, anyway? If I were married to her, I'd want to spend as much time away from her and her nagging as possible! He must have jumped at the opportunity to become ambassador to France.

Ben: Come in, lad. I've been trying to write a new pamphlet. I must help the people get back to the good old colonial ethics of hard work and diligence! But don't worry your head about that. What are we going to do about that ferret of yours, lad? Adrian: Terra is probably in Penn Mansion. Can't we just go ask for her? You're a pretty important guy in Philadelphia, right? Ben: Well, I suppose so, but that wouldn't help us anyway. I have never had any influence with General Pugh. I never liked the fellow, nor he I. Adrian: Then I guess we'll have to break in. Ben: Ha ha! I appreciate your enthusiasm, lad, but we'd need an army to take Penn Mansion. It has more guards around it than Ima has dresses in her closet! Adrian: How many guards? Ben: Six, lad. Adrian: Quite a lot of guards, then. Still, I bet I could slip past them--if only I could get across the river. Ben: I think we can take care of the river. I know we can get you in--it's getting you out I'm worried about. If only we had someone to back us up… Adrian: Ceiling H. Cat. I sense another fucking fetch quest coming up. Ben: (Sigh.) I am quite sympathetic to your plight, lad, but I don't think the colonists are likely to take on armed redcoats for the sake of a ferret. If only there were another reason for them to gather at Penn Mansion… well, if you think of anything, let me know. I'm going to work on this pamphlet.

Adrian: Here. Take this. Quibble: Oh, all right. Let's see it. Come on, Vicar (sic), look at this with me. Then maybe she'll leave BOTH of us alone! Victor: Whatever you want, my little squirrel-lips! Quibble: Okay, let's see… WHAT?!? The Pughs have been LYING to us? How COULD they! Oh, and Ben's changed his mind about the New Ways! Y'know, they did seem kind of silly…but those rotten PUGHS! How COULD they! GRRRR! Oh, Vicar (sic), how could we have been so silly? We have shirked our duties to this colony! Victor: Indeed, my love. We must fly to Ben's side, and join him in protest! Little girl, you've done us a great service, and we thank you most sincerely! Quibble: Tell me, girl, what is your name? I want to tell my own daughter all about you, when I have one! Adrian: First of all, I'm a boy. Second of all, my name is, uh, Richard Garriott. Victor: We'll always remember you, Richard! We'll see you at the protest! Quibble: Yes, farewell, Richard!

Adrian: Has anyone ever told you that your head looks like a balloon on a stick? Goody: Lass, is this from Ben? Oh, it IS! Let's see… WHAT?!? Those horrible, terrible, sneaky PUGHS!!! Ooh, what FIENDS! I'm GOING to that meeting. We'll just GET those Pughs, that's what! Adrian: Wow, do you think you used enough capslock in that sentence? Goody: …Do you suppose I should bring my big, heavy ladle? Heh heh heh… Adrian: Well, I know it's tempting, but we don't want to resort to violence. Not right away, anyhow. cracks knuckles Goody: Oh, all right. I'd best close up the shop and get ready. Just come by if there's anything you need…Oh, by the way, lass, what's your name? Adrian: I'm not a lass, and my name is, um, Adam. Adam Lovelace. Goody: Well, I thank you, Adam Lovelace! I'll see you at the rally, if not before. Excuse me!

Adrian: Here you go, Tattle. Unfortunately, it's not an application for a name change. Tattle: Well, the last thing you gave me was pretty special! Let's see what you have for me now! Mm hmm… Mm hmm… Oh, dear! WHAT?!? You don't say. …Oh, MY! OH, DEAR!! Imagine that! Ben Franklin really WAS sick! Oh, I can't BELIEVE those awful Pughs! Tell you what, little girl, I'm going to that rally! Adrian: Zip-a-dee-freakin'-doo-dah. Tattle: I owe a lot to you, lassie. You showed me the error of my ways. Thank you--Oh, my! I don't know your name! Adrian: Considering that you don't even know that I'm a boy, I'm not surprised. My name is, um, Nikola. Nikola Tesla. Tattle: Well, it was a pleasure to meet you, Nick. See you at the rally!

Adrian: Here, catch. makes a pamphlet into a paper airplane and throws it through the window Nellie: Whee! That was fun! All right, let's see what we have here. Uh-huh… sure… What?!? WHAT?!? WHAT?!?! NO WAY!!! It's INFURIATING! To think, the Pughs have been taking advantage of us all this time! Well, I'll just go to that rally and give those Pughs what for! Thank you, Adrian!

Adrian: What's up? Roland: Huh? Oh, nothing much, Cosmic Cat. It feels good to be virtuous. I just wish I knew what else I should be doing. I'm bored, you know? Adrian: Well, this might interest you. Roland: Cool! Sock it to me! 'Kay, let's see… WHOA! HOLD THE CARRIAGE! Is this TRUE? And I thought I was a dishonest, sneaky street weasel! Adrian: Don't insult weasels like that. Roland: Those rotten Pughs! They were taking money from everybody before I had the chance to! We'll put a stop to that! I'm goin' to the rally! Hey, Cosmic, you never did tell me your name. Lay it on me, so I know who to thank! Adrian: It's…Gary. Gary Gygax. Roland: Well thanks a million, Gary! I'll see you at the rally! Adrian: Bye.

Adrian: Here. It's from Benjamin Franklin. Lee: For me, hmm? Oh, bully! Let's see. I just hope it doesn't have anything to do with tie-dye. Oh, my! Oh, MY! WHAT?!? I can't believe it! I just can't! Oh, it's wonderful to know that Ben is back to his old self! And as for those Pughs…If only I still had my cannon! I'm going to that rally, young lady! Thank you! Adrian: Is that "cannon" as a singular or a plural? Lee: Well, I'll be off then, young--oh, what IS your name, girl? Adrian: I'm a boy, and my name is, um, Douglas. Douglas Adams. Lee: It's been a pleasure, Douglas, lad. I'll see you at the rally! GET THE PUGHS! TALLY HO! YOIKS AND AWAY! Adrian (thinking): I just hope he can fit through the pub door.

Adrian: Here. Penny: Ooh, what is it, what is it? Oboy, a Special Edition from Ben! Let's see… EEK! I… I can't believe it! Those--those PUGHS! How COULD they! OOOH! Just wait until I get my hands on that rotten General! I'll take that Bavarian lace shirt Nellie made for him last week and STRANGLE him with it! Or maybe I'll just bring him back to the shop and saw him in half! Yeah, that's the ticket! Adrian: Your penchant for gratuitous violence is disturbing, and that's coming from me. Why not just go to the freakin' rally, like everyone else? Penny: Okay, I'll look for you there! I'll just go change out of these ridiculous clothes, then I'll go to the meeting. See you later-- say, what IS your name, child? I'd like to properly thank you. Adrian: It's, er, ah, it's Shigesato. Shigesato Itoi. Penny: What an exotic name! Thank you, Shigesato. I'll see you later!

Adrian: Here. It's a flyer from Ben. Billy: Ben, huh, little dudette? Let's see what he has to say… Yeah… Uh-huh… Yeah… Uh-huh… HOLD ON A MINUTE! Oh, MAN! I can't BELIEVE those… PUGHS! They've been robbing us blind! I'm glad Ben is better, kid, but I'm so angry right now I could spit nails! Hidel: Indeed, nails! Billy: We're going to that rally, lass, and you better believe it! Adrian: Oh, and mail out the rest of these flyers to the sheeple, er, colonists, okay? Billy: You bet! By sundown tonight, everyone in Philadelphia will know what a rat that wretched Pugh is. Come on, Hidel, let's get moving-- Oh! by (sic) the way, what's your name, lass? We really owe you one! Adrian: As I've been trying to tell you, I'm a lad, not a lass. Oh, and my name is, um, Richard. Richard Garfield. Billy: Fare the well, Richard! Godspeed! If you'll excuse me, we must get these flyers into the mail, and prepare for the meeting. Goodbye! Hidel: Right, bye!

Adrian: This is the last one. Finally, I'm done with this fucking fetch quest! Marty: Let's see now… What!?! General Pugh's been swindling us out of our money? The Stamp Act never even PASSED! That total worm-dude! Ben goes on to say that we should all stop dressing, acting and talking like ninnies! Hey, Throckmorton, are we ninnies? Throckmorton: Well… Marty: I fear we are, brother. See here, Ben is organizing a protest against General Pugh! We must show our support! Throckmorton: Yes, let us make haste! Marty: We thank you most sincerely, lass. You have done us an immeasurable favor. Tell, (sic) me, what is your name? I want to remember you always. Adrian: Uh, David. David…Sedaris. And I'm a lad, not a lass. Marty: Well, best of luck to you, David! Throckmorton: Yes, farewell, David-dude!

Adrian: Now that the warp in the spacetime continuum is fixed, I should be heading home soon. Terra: (ferret noises) Adrian and Terra begin to warp back to the present Ben: Lad? LAD?!? Adrian: Goodbye and good riddance to all of you. I'll remember you in therapy. Marty: Goodbye, David! Quibble: Goodbye, Richard! Nellie: Goodbye, Adrian! Tattle: Goodbye, Nikola! Lee: Goodbye, Douglas… Adrian and Terra return to their own time, but can never scrub their minds clean

#long post #really long post #don't click the keep reading unless you have time to spare #pepper's adventures in time #my ocs #adrian bernhardt #mst #sort of

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thaumium-block · 2 years

Text

Crimson squad

#art #minecraft #thaumcraft #minecraft oc #oc: prithee #oc: know rightway #oc: travel pathroad #oc: insightful sparkjoy #crimson cult #crimson cleric #crimson praetor

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stormbreaker101 · 2 years

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prithee what is stallorris

So in the Pirate101 OC discord, a friend of mine made an AU of Wizard101 called the Butterfly Effect AU (or BEAU for short) where basically everything goes to shit, the Wizard doesn't exist anymore (kinda), and all the major villains reign over the Spiral.

Morris is partly an OC, partly a canon character. He's Dasein, but with EXTRA issues with emotional repression and guilt because he feels it's his fault for everything going to shit in the Spiral (long story) :D

And the Stallion in question is specifically the Stallion Quartermane in my AU of the Spiral, Corrupted Spiral, where things go to shit after arc 3 and so Stallion doesn't immediately jump into 'hee hoo adventure and colonization time', and has the opportunity to like. not be a total piece of shit.

Stallorris is the ship between them. They're idiots and oblivious and gay and currently going through an arc where they've been stripped of their noncanonity and are trying to remember themselves and each other!

They're also known as the geezer gang. Because they're both old as shit.

also. this could be 4 hours of sleep talking but the 'prithee' makes you sound like fuckin' Solomon Crane or whatever so now im just imagining that puritan goddamn bird sending this ask and trying to imagine his reaction to this jkfhskjd

EDIT BECAUSE I FUCKING FORGOT TO MENTION: BEAU IS NOT MY AU. IT IS MADE BY MY FRIEND @klaraflamez . 4 hours of sleep or not holy shit I need to remember to give CREDIT WHERE CREDIT IS DUE.

#ask #anon #Butterfly Effect AU #stallorris #stallion quartermane #friend's oc: morris #leah speaks :3

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prismatic-starstuff · 2 years

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I can't help but think about all the ways Radagon would... "De-stress" his s/o, so to speak 🤤

Relax.

— gender-neutral!OC x Radagon.

18+ only content under the cut, minors stay away.

"Shh, my love..."

His voice is warm and playful, strong hands holding his lover's hips down so effortlessly despite their needy attempts at twitching, at bucking up into the warmth he offers.

"Prithee, relax for me... Lie back, and allow me to take care of thee."

Their eyes are wide as they stare down into Radagon's gleaming golden gaze, as they watch his remarkably skilled tongue languidly lick at their juices upon his full lips. Breathing coming quick and heavy, they nod, hands sliding into silken red locks and drawing their divine lover close once more.

A deep, smooth, satisfied sound rumbles in Radagon's chest as his mouth meets their most sensitive areas once more, pressed there by his beloved's eager hands. His pretty cheeks are flushed bright as he resumes his work, slick and hungry sounds filling the room as he licks and sucks and swallows.

Fingers tighten into their champion's red locks hard enough to pull, and Radagon moans without shame, a shiver passing down his spine as he grips his lover's thighs to part them further and move in closer still.

And as their divinity services them so well, they find themself forgetting all about the day before this moment; pliant and ecstatic and relaxed, focused solely on the pleasure, and the beautiful champion providing it.

#spicy #elden ring #radagon #radagon of the golden order #my writing #i know this wasn't a prompt buuuuuut what can i say?#i got inspired~ 🤭#radagon/oc #radagon x oc

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dkniade · 2 years

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A name is a song that deserves to be sung

August 18, 2022. // August 25, 2022.

Characters: (platonic) Nameless Bard, Venti, Mondstadt bard (OC)

Genre: slight hurt/comfort

Notes: Venti backstory spoilers, implied canon character death, crying, most of the conversation is between Venti and an original Mondstadt character of mine talking about Venti’s friend.

Headcanon: The Nameless Bard was called Carmen Dei, and Carmen Dei is another title of the Anemo Archon Barbatos.

Author’s Comment: This one was inspired by this post about my headcanon of the bard’s name being Barbatos and @teyvats-worst-hero’s headcanon of the bard being called Carmen (from Venti’s constellation Carmen Dei). The idea is that the Anemo Archon Barbatos’ titles secretly refer to the bard rather than Venti himself so when the people of Mondstadt praise Barbatos, they’re actually praising Venti’s friend. All settings and characters except for Azurblau belong to HoYoverse.

See the end for notes.

---

This is a tale of remembrance from eons ago carried to present-day Mondstadt, and now it unfolds… over the perpetual motion of wind...

“Oh, I don’t think I’ve told you my name yet, little wind wisp? I’m Carmen Dei. A fitting name for a bard, right? Though, I guess it’s a little egoistic of me...” The young bard had introduced himself this way to Venti back then.

A fitting name. Oh dear skies, it was so fitting, such a beautiful name must be carried on through the winds’ melodies. But alas, Venti back then was just one wisp in the thousand winds, and the boy was just one boy in a thousand little boys. And yet the two of them became each others’ muse, unbeknownst to Carmen. Venti never forgot his friend’s sacrifice and dreams. Even now, in present day Mondstadt, he made sure that dear name lived on.

The winds blew gently through the wide plaza beneath the great statue, its silhouette clear against a blue sky. A small crowd gathered before a bard with a small can at their feet. Clear notes rang out from a lyre as its master standing before the green bard in performance. They sang of freedom and wine, of dandelions and crystal lakes, and of the Anemo Archon. As people passed by, some Mora were dropped into their can. With the last notes of their song fading, the performer bowed to their crowd.

“Thank you all, my dear audience, for attending to my tunes.”

As the bard looked up, Venti stepped forward with a smile. “That was a wondrous melody you used. May I ask for the name of your muse?” he inquired.

The bard chuckled, and bowed again. “High praise, high praise… My muse is Lord Barbatos, of course.” They strummed their lyre gently as the crowd disgrouped. “The God of Song never ceases to inspire me.”

“Oh yes, Lord Barbatos!” Venti echoed, visibly excited. “Or by a name that’s just as sweet, Carmen Dei, so I’d like to believe!” He hoped the bard didn’t catch the sliver of sadness behind his cheerful tone. “I’m Venti. Prithee tell me your name?”

“You… wish to know my name?” The bard bent down to collect his can of Mora and stood back up to face Venti. “It’s Azurblau.”

“A beautiful name under this beautiful sky!” Hearing it conjured up in Venti’s mind the image of Dvalin, that bejeweled dragon and his good friend. “A name is a song that one is remembered by, wouldn’t you agree?”

Azurblau nodded, and looked beyond him to the windmill-lined sky. “And Carmen Dei… I’m sure his name is a song that’s sung by all the bards of Mondstadt.”

His name is a song that’s sung by all the bards of Mondstadt.

Venti had to hold back the tears that nearly overflowed from his bright eyes. Of course, it’s always been his wish to have all of Mondstadt remember Carmen’s name, but to hear it from one of the very bards that lived in the city struck harder than any chord one could play.

“Indeed he’s a wonderful muse… His past deeds bring hope to present calamities.” Venti looked past Azurblau, towards the large statue’s serene visage through his teary eyes. “I’m sure Carmen will hear your tune...”

“Thank you for your words, kind bard,” they replied. And yet, why was this green bard crying? But it’s true, they supposed, that he’d find comfort in the Anemo Archon.

Now might’ve been an inopportune moment, but Azurblau realized that this crying young bard before them was incredibly beautiful, even bearing the likeness of Carmen Dei himself… Was this how Lord Barbatos looked when he cried?

Venti laughed a little. Oh, it rang clearer than any lyre. “Ahh, please excuse my tears,” he apologized as he wiped some away. “I was just remembering something… A friend…”

A friend so great, the God of Song, Carmen Dei—

“With every night there comes a dawn. I'm sure your friend’s happy where they are,” Azurblau said gently. Venti noted how they clutched the curve of their lyre a little tighter. “And… It was my first time knowing Lord Barbatos also bears the name Carmen Dei. It’s a fitting name.”

A fitting name. Oh dear skies, it’s so fitting, such a beautiful name must be carried on through the winds’ melodies. But alas, Venti is now an Archon who’s part of the Seven, and this bard is one bard in a thousand Mondstadtian bards. And yet the two of them found their muse in Carmen Dei, unbeknownst to him. Venti would never want his friend’s sacrifice and dreams to be forgotten. Even now, in present day Mondstadt, he’s grateful that someone made sure that dear name lives on.

“Yes, Carmen Dei… A fitting name for an Archon. Though, I guess it’s a little egoistic of me to say this name like that…”

This is a tale of remembrance in present-day Mondstadt, carried by the winds of the past… to that storm-ridden, bright blue yesterday…

---

Notes

I wanted the beginning and the end to have parallels if not be a full on circular narrative. I also wanted it to sound like a ballad. Thus, the first sentence is “This is a tale of remembrance from eons ago carried to present-day Mondstadt, and now it unfolds… over the perpetual motion of wind...” with the last sentence being “This is a tale of remembrance in present-day Mondstadt, carried by the winds of the past… to that storm-ridden, bright blue yesterday…”

Similarly, the intro’s “fitting name” section talks about Venti the wisp and Carmen the bard, with them becoming eachother’s muse, and the outro’s “fitting name” section talks about Venti the Anemo Archon and Azurblau the bard, with Carmen and Barbatos being their respective muses.

And in between the two sections, Carmen and Venti express their feelings of egotism separately. Carmen thinks as a human bard, a name that means “God of Song” would be too elevated, and Venti thinks as a wisp who did nearly nothing, bearing the name of his friend as a god doesn’t give enough credit to him.

When I finished typing the last sentence of this short story, like how I felt when I wrote “In Your Image, the Midas Touch”, I felt like crying…

And lastly, the title. Originally the stand-in title was “A name is a song that one is remembered by” but then I changed it to this based on two of my favourite lines in the story.

A name is a song that deserves to be sung

“A name is a song that one is remembered by, wouldn’t you say?” —Venti

“I’m sure his name is a song that’s sung by all the bards of Mondstadt.” —Azurblau

Thank you for reading this piece. I hope you’re doing well.

#dusk fan writing #barbatos #venti #nameless bard #mondstadt #genshin impact #genshin oc #genshin impact oc #fan fiction #hurt comfort

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starsfallings-archived · 4 years

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Prithee, a description of any oc

I’m assuming this was from an ask game.

Chariss is average height, about 1.6m, with brownish hair. She’s got a slender build, but her arms are hella strong from carrying all those books lmao. I have nothing else to say because eye colour doesn’t matter. At least, not anymore.

Thanks for the ask!

#ask

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blueyesandleatherjacket · 6 years

Text

Ghost of you, 17/?

Volume: 1.

Number of parts: 17/?.

Pairings: Human!Nine x Rose; Human!Ten x Jack; Clara Oswald x Olivia Baxter (OC).

Synopsis: “Be thou spirit of health, or goblin damn’d, Bring thee air from heaven or blasts from hell, Be thy intents wicked or charitable, Thou com’st in such questionable shape That I will speak to thee.”

A/N: I've started writing this fiction last year after I had a particularly weird dream (as usual) and after I wrote the prologue, I've put it aside to work on other stuff. I've gone back to it not so long ago and decided that it would be the fiction I would post next, after not posting anything for a while. I must have watched I am legend and Game of thrones way too much to come out with something like this but I hope you will like it. I am not a scientist, nor did I have a particular knowledge of sciences. I do my researches on the internet like everyone to make sure everything is as close to the reality as possible. I have a literature degree only. Writing is what I do and it makes me explore next fields, and learn new things.

“Prithee, see there! Behold! Look! Lo! How say you? / Why, what care I? If thou canst nod, speak too. / If charnel houses and our graves must send / Those that we bury back, our monuments / Shall be the maws of kites.” - Macbeth, Shakespeare.

CHAPTER 17:

Eleventh day of October. Day 1755 since the infection. Jack Harkness video log. Our researches are finally leading us somewhere. We have all this different information scattered and we’re trying to make them fit together like pieces of a huge puzzle. The noctiagus isn’t a simple deadly virus like the pest or the cholera. Unfortunately. We have the necessary weapons against those. The noctiagus is more like a cancer. A corrupted cell corrupting everything around it until the body gives in. It seems like nothing since we can’t cure most of the cancers yet but knowing how the virus works is a huge step still. We can adapt our researches to it. That’s what we’ve done already. The doctor Clara Oswald and myself are currently trying to find a way to fix the DNA and stop it from changing to the contact of those corrupted cells. This would be a great improvement for the sick people. And for our friend. The doctor Martha Jones helped us synthesising this sort of temporary cure. It has the form of a tiny pill that can be swallowed with a bit of water. Nothing too complicated. Except we’re afraid of testing it. Our only living subject is Maxence and the latest report on his health isn’t great. Testing it on him can be too dangerous. I don’t want him to suffer more than he does at the moment. And none of us wants him to… we want him to hold on. It wouldn’t be fair if he was dying now. The thought of Maxence dying forced Jack to stop speaking for a moment. He didn’t turn off the recording. He just needed a moment to breathe deeply and pull himself back together. He looked down, moved away, took deep breaths. Maxence being infected was a hard blow on him but there still was that hope to save him. Maxence fighting the virus had been a good thing at first but now… he was dying and Jack couldn’t handle that. He was putting his brave face on when he had to face everyone but deep down… deep down, he wished for this nightmare to be over. With all the geniuses gathered in this place, how could this cure still be unreachable? Jack ended up turning off the recording. This entry to the video log was over. He couldn’t say more. There wasn’t anything more to say anyway. The main information was inside. He sent the video to their common server. He didn’t mind what would be murmured behind his back for being so emotional. They could say whatever they wanted. They could even go to hell. His friend was dying for fuck’s sake! His best friend, the man who saved him from the consequences of after war. It couldn’t end like that. It couldn’t end before Jack found a way to thank him for this. He let himself fall on his desk chair and rubbed his face. It was hard to focus and worry at the same time. He hated this situation as much as everyone else in this building except for Colin. Colin who couldn’t harm anyone anymore thanks to Tegan. “Last time I’ve seen you looking so defeated, you were refusing my job offer.” For a second, Jack thought he was hallucinating, that the lack of sleep had finally gotten to him, but his brain was telling him that Maxence was speaking to him. He raised his head. His boss was sat on the chair on the other side of the desk, his legs crossed, and was observing him. Jack was a former soldier. Consequently, he knew that hallucinations came to him in his moments of weakness and guilt. The guilt to still be alive, the guilt not to have been able to save the men and women and children around him, the guilt to have killed in order to survive. Right now, he was feeling guilty for not working faster, for not finding a concrete answer, for not being able to save his friend and he was beyond exhaustion. All he needed was damn good news and days of sleep. Which he wasn’t gonna get this time again. He was clever enough to ignore the image of his boss. Last time he had spoken with an hallucination, he was in the psychiatric unit of a military hospital. Weeks after he was sent back home, he had lost his mind. He had broken down and his boyfriend at the time had had to have him locked up for his own sake. They had broken up because of that decision but Jack now had forgiven him. It had been the best decision at the time and he couldn’t see it. After that, he had gone back to his first love: sciences. That’s how he had met Maxence, how he had arrived here today. “Good thing I’ve insisted.” “What are you here for this time?” The words had blurted out of his mouth before he could hold them back. He stared at his boss straight in the eyes and folded his arms on his chest. He was aware that he was talking to someone that wasn’t there but it was too tempting to answer, to have a proper response to his questions. However, this time, Maxence remained silent and his image flickered. He looked at his hand that was almost translucent and frowned. A usual reaction when something wasn’t going the way he thought it would. “I came to say goodbye, Jack.” The former captain felt his heart furiously beating against his ribcage as if it was gonna come out of his body at any time. It was painful but the physical pain was nothing compared to the psychological one these words caused in him. ‘I came to say goodbye’ could only mean one thing and Jack didn’t like the meaning of it. He didn’t wait for the next sentence this fake Maxence could say. He jumped to his feet and rushed out of his office. He ran to the underground part of the lab, to the place his painful heart and the stabbing alarm resounding through all the building was leading him: where everyone was gathered to watch the worst happening under their eyes…

Tegan had thought that now that he had figured out who was behind this worldwide mess, things would be easier. He just needed to transfer the information to his team and they would be able to work harder on the noctiagus. With a copy of all the researches done by Myrtle Appleton that he had found in Colin’s computer, they had everything in hand. They couldn’t fail now. He was done typing the mail. The attached documents were done charging in the mail. He clicked on the ‘send’ button, closed the messaging service window and moved from his chair to his couch. He barely had his eyes closed for a bit of rest that he was getting a call on his phone. He groaned, pressed a pillow on his face and tried to ignore the call. How was Maxence doing this job? Worse, how was Harvey dealing with this whole building so well? The phone stopped ringing and he felt guilty for being so relieved. What he wanted was just a little bit of rest. Like the rest of his team, he was way beyond the exhaustion. They were all holding on to the nerves to find that cure and it wasn’t a good thing. Saving Maxence was becoming very urgent – more urgent with every minute – but working in these conditions was pushing them to make mistakes. Or to miss someone who was sabotaging their researches. Tegan was still feeling like an incompetent idiot for almost killing his boss. His boss… The words felt strange now that he was the boss and Maxence was a simple patient in his special unit. A patient with very worrying scans. The virus was winning but Maxence refused to let go. This was killing him, and Tegan wondered if the mistake he had made hadn’t sped up the process. His phone rang again and he couldn’t ignore it anymore. It could be important. It could be a life or death question. It could also be nothing. There were still blokes who thought that they were funny by calling people and scaring them. The communication means were almost all down. The CRCD had its own aerials that were giving the whole building a constant access to internet and phone lines. It was a real blessing in times like this. They were rarely getting calls from the exterior but it sometimes happened, especially through radio frequencies. Usually, they were coming from survivors that were looking for loved ones or for help. Everything was written down in a notebook and transferred to the appropriate security services. The normal police had long lost this battle and Tegan ignored if the messages they were transferring were helpful to the persons who launched them. He finally picked up his phone on the third attempt of his caller to reach him and mumbled something in the speaker. He hoped that it was for something important because he wouldn’t move from this couch if this was just for a fight that had occurred somewhere in the building. It was up to the security to deal with that. He had had enough to do with Colin already. The news he was given was far more interesting though. He sat up quickly. “Say that again.” The man on the other side of the line repeated his words. “Let her in. Lock her in a crate and take her to one of the sterile rooms.” He ended the call and pushed the pillow away. He also pushed the fatigue away. It wasn’t time to sleep. Not anymore. Myrtle Appleton had decided to come into his realm and it was his duty to go and welcome her in person. She was infected but, unlike Maxence, she had all her abilities. It was another sort of sick person and he was willing to work on this. He would take care of her case personally. Scans, blood tests, saliva tests. Everything that would enable him to find the answers they were all craving for. If he hadn’t lost his trust in Adam, he would have taken him as his assistant. He would have learnt a lot but he had chosen Colin and Colin had ruined him. Now, Adam had been transferred to a lesser job and he had been advised to shut up about Maxence’s case or worse could still happen to him. Being fired, having this behaviour mentioned in his file and he was done in the job. He stopped by the lockers room and pulled on a hazmat suit. He wouldn’t lose any time. He would start working as soon as he got there. He was closing the door of his locker when he heard someone behind him. He jumped and turned around to find no one. Once again, he called himself an idiot for being so easily scared of a small noise, for being paranoid. “I’ve always known you would make a great boss for them all. You just needed someone believing in you and the necessary push.” This time again, Tegan jumped and turned back around. A pale image of Maxence was leaning against the lockers and looking at him. He had that smile a father would have after his kid told him about an achievement they would have done. Tegan was a scientist and didn’t believe in spectres. So, he just rubbed his eyes to get rid of their fatigue and passed through the ghost as if it wasn’t there. When it appeared again before him, he thought that maybe some help for this new case would be needed because he was really tired. “Be thou spirit of health, or goblin damn’d, Bring thee air from heaven or blasts from hell, Be thy intents wicked or charitable, Thou com’st in such questionable shape That I will speak to thee.” Tegan was quoting Hamlet in the beginning of the Shakespearean play when the young prince faced the spectre of his father for the very first time. His own ghost, the ghost of his mentor, seemed amused by the reference. If Tegan had believed in supernatural stuff, he would have been terrified by this. He had read enough Shakespeare to know what spectres could push you to do in their names, or just because they were the manifestation of a deep guilt. The Macbeths once experienced it and it led them to madness and death. “I am thy mentor’s spirit, Doom’d for a certain term to walk the night, And for the day confin’d to fast in fires, Till the foul crimes, done in my days of nature, Are burnt and purg’d away – Are you a man?” “Ay, and a bold one, that dare look on that Which might appal the devil.” From Hamlet to Macbeth, there was only one verse and they had crossed the line. Tegan thought that he might have fallen asleep in the end. This was too unreal for his liking. He had no time for such fantasy. He needed to wake up and quickly! “I’ve got no time for this.” “I’m proud of you, T. Keep up the good work.” “What?” The image faltered and, with a bright smile, it disappeared and Tegan was left alone in the corridor he had stopped in. For a couple seconds, he remained still, unable to move or think. Until the alarm went off. An alarm that made his blood speed up in his veins and fear crush his heart. He completely forgot about Myrtle Appleton, about her researches, about everything that wasn’t Maxence and he ran, ran like crazy toward the current disaster of the building.

Amy was standing in front of the wall of pictures. She was still in Maxence and Rose’s room but she was alone now. Rose had thought that taking a shower would do her a world of good after this failed nap – for her at least – and she had left Amy to observe her surroundings. The therapist wouldn’t say no to a shower. After such a deep sleep, she felt rested but she needed to refresh herself and to change clothes to feel even better. Rose had allowed her to have that shower here when she would be done and she would also lend her some clothes. It felt weird to Amy to have a friend willing to do so much for her. From what she could see on this wall, Rose was quite the popular girl. Her childhood might not have been one of the best but she had managed to beat fate and to build herself this life she could be proud of. These pictures were showing the story of Maxence and Rose’s life. It almost looked like a fairy tale to Amy. There was so much love between those two human beings that she was almost jealous. Her husband never loved her the way Maxence loved Rose. He never did any of the things Maxence had done for her. The scientist seemed like the perfect man that every woman was dreaming of. He wasn’t as handsome or sexy as those photoshopped playboys you could find in magazines but he had something. Charisma. Gentleness. Intelligence. A rare combination in a man. Rose had found the rare gem and everyone could be jealous about it. She hadn’t let the opportunity disappear thankfully. She had grabbed it and kept it and her knight in shining armour was now the damsel in distress. Funny how things could change quickly. Her eyes stared at another picture. A friends’ picture that looked almost like a family picture. Taken around Christmas time. Maxence and Rose were gathered with Allegro, Jack, Tegan, Clara and Olivia around a small barbecue on the balcony of some flat. Maxence was roasting some chestnuts on the fire. Amy regretted not having friends like this to share such a moment. Her last Christmas… When was it already? What had she done? Probably gotten drunk and been sick for the next few days. She used to love this celebration so much before. She was always overexcited when Christmas time was rolling around. But with William’s death… “It was our last Christmas.” Amy jumped. She hadn’t heard Rose coming out of the bathroom. She turned to face her. Her brown hair that she was usually colouring into blonde or red were falling on her shoulders, wet. She had pulled on clean clothes but hadn’t finished with her hair yet. That was why she had a towel around her shoulders so it wouldn’t soak her T-shirt. “Sorry. Thought you’ve heard me.” “It’s okay. I’ve got lost in your story.” “Almost a fairy tale.” “Definitely a fairy tale.” Rose sighed and sat on the bed. She used the towel on her shoulders to dry her hair the best she could without using a hairdryer. She would just do a quick ponytail. No need to do anything fancy for work. She needed to go back to Maxence. She needed to find this cure. “You can use the bathroom. I’m done with it.” She grabbed the brush on her bedside table and started brushing her hair slowly. She would dye it in any colour Maxence would like to if she managed to save him. If it was the contrary… She would certainly die. She wouldn’t have the strength to keep going. Amy didn’t move. Not yet. Her eyes were still on the pictures. She wished she had such a wall, such memories. It was never too late to start. Maybe when the virus would only be a bad memory. Maybe Rose would take her in that sweet band of friends. She turned around when she heard Rose gasp and drop her brush. Her face had gone pale and her eyes were wide open. She was staring at something beside Amy. The therapist looked at the wall but couldn’t see what was scaring her patient so much. “What do you see?” “Not in the mood for therapy,” retorted Rose. She suddenly was up. She walked to the spot right next to Amy and raised her hand much to the therapist’s astonishment because she couldn’t see what Rose was seeing: the pale figure of her husband standing there with an apologetic look. He avoided her touch. “I’m just an image,” he declared sadly. Tears filled her eyes and rolled down her cheeks silently as her hand fell back by her side. She never saw a ghost before but she knew how to tell that what was before her was real. His voice was distant, almost like an echo of lost words, and he was so pale she could see the wall and the pictures through him. As if he was nothing but a veil before her eyes. “Rose?” hesitantly called out Amy. “Why?” The question came out of her trembling lips. She had read enough books and myths to know that ghosts only appeared to the persons they loved. They were coming to say goodbye. A one last goodbye. There were people down there. They could save him before she even left this room. What were they doing? “I’ve never been that strong. My brain went through a lot when I was a boy. It couldn’t handle the virus any longer.” “You can’t…” Rose couldn’t form full sentences and Amy was watching her patient talk with a wall. Her attitude was clear enough: she was seeing her husband. It was her exhaustion and her anxiety playing tricks to her, making her hallucinate. She put her hand on her shoulder but Rose shrugged it off. She had no time to waste. Once again, she tried to touch Maxence. His image flickered and almost disappeared. She swallowed a sob. “I’m sorry, I wish our song wasn’t ending this way.” “I…” “I love you, Rose. In this life and all the others if they ever exist. Be strong for me, my love. Find this cure. Become the hero I’ve always known you were.” He bent over and she closed her eyes, thinking she would feel the ghost of his lips pressed against hers but there was nothing and when she opened her eyes, he was gone. She could have collapsed and cried but she swallowed the sobs again and rushed out of the room. She didn’t want this to end like this. Amy would have followed her if she hadn’t been facing the very same spectre Rose had been talking to. She opened her mouth but considering that he was barely visible now, that the image was fading away, she wouldn’t have time to say anything before he disappeared. He had one last thing to say and it was for her. “Take care of her for me. She’s the best woman you’ll ever meet.” “I will,” Amy promised. The next words he pronounced struck her. They were like a stab in her heart but in the good way. If a stab could be good in any way. ‘William wants you to know that he misses you and he’s happy you’re making friends again.’ Was he…? Her son… Was he around like Maxence? Could he see her and watch over her? She wanted to ask but Maxence was already gone and, the weight of these new words on her heart, she followed Rose’s path.

Liv was in Allegro’s cage when the alarm went off. Both of them raised their heads. Liv rushed to the interactive wall and checked Maxence’s vital signs. They were almost inexistent. She glanced at Allegro and mouthed a sorry before she rushed out of this cage to go to the other one. She dragged Maxence away from the broken bowl and spilled food and turned him on his side. The fall hadn’t hurt him badly but it was clearly not the matter now. She didn’t have time to lose. His heart was giving up because his brain was suffering from a severe pressure. The reason was unknown at the moment but they would find it later. Right pupil blown, cerebral fluid flowing through his nose. How had they missed the signs? They should have seen it long before this happen. She ran to the airlock and grabbed the medical bag she left there earlier. It would be very needed. She hurried back into the cage and knelt down beside him. She pulled out disinfectant and cleaned the area she was gonna work on. She hated this. She wasn’t a neurologist but she knew the process. She took the medical portable drill and cleaned it off quickly. Then, she pulled on latex gloves above the gloves of her suit and took a deep breath. Three fingers above the ear, two on the side of the blown pupil. A quick vertical cut. Ignore the blood. Place the drill in the middle of the cut. Drill a first hole. Behind the hairline, a bit off the midline. Second hole. Drill around the hole. Remove as much blood as possible. It was the process but she didn’t know what to do anymore now that the holes were pierced, now that the brain pressure was relieved. Tegan would know. That was his specialty. And she was just a simple doctor. Her eyes were clouded with tears as she was taking off as much blood as possible with gauze. Maybe a derivation would have been the best way but she hadn’t had time to do things properly. She was trembling. The life of her friend was between her hands and she was lost. “You can’t leave, Max. Not now, not when we’re so close. You gotta hold on. For Rose, for me. What will happen to us if you die?” She sniffled. Her tears were flowing. She didn’t hold them back anymore. “Rose will survive. She’s strong, she can do it but me? I need you. I need my friend. I need the man who saved my life and got in troubles for helping me. I need the man who gave me a second chance, the man who healed me with his kind words and hugs and support. I need to hear you tell bad jokes and I’ll laugh along even if it’s not funny. I need to see your smile again to think that the world is a good place. I need your presence to stop thinking that I’m unworthy, to think that I have my spot in this world. I need you to keep me above the water because I can’t do this without you, Max. Do you know how many times I’ve thought about dying and you’ve just come around and get this out of my head? Do you know how many times I’ve told myself that I couldn’t disappoint you after all you’ve done for me? Now is not the time, Max. This is not your time. I won’t let you.” She wiped away her tears. She couldn’t focus, couldn’t see a thing because of them. She was still cleaning that blood. There was too much, way too much and she was afraid that she might have done wrong. What if she had killed him instead of saving him? Rose would kill her this time. She would be so angry and devastated that she would kill her for ruining her husband’s last chance. “Please,” she begged. “Please, don’t die on me now.” Maxence had come to her too but she wasn’t seeing him. He was standing beside her, beside his wrecked body and was sadly looking at the scene, at his friend. She couldn’t see him because he was too translucent, couldn’t hear him because he was too weak but he was there. He put a hand on her shoulder. “I believe you’re stronger than you think you are, Olivia.” He was the only one able to use her full name, a name she hated for reasons only Rose and him knew now. “I believe you will go on with your life without me. And it’s gonna be fantastic.” He gave a small sad smile at the scene. He wished she could have heard him. He wished she could see how strong she was. He had been their cornerstone for so long and now, they were gonna have to learn how to live without him. It would be hard at first, but with time, it would be okay. He would find a way to stay around them, when he would be less tired. He closed his eyes. Now was his time to go…

To be continued...

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In the next chapter:

She could hear his voice now but she didn’t react to it. It was her grief speaking. Just a memory in a spectral form. It was no way to remember this fantastic man. She preferred keeping the precious memories of him smiling and laughing, the priceless image of the man who took her out of the orphanage when she was sixteen, the picture of him bruised after he got involved in a fight with his biological father who was responsible for her rape, for her miscarriage and her now inability to carry children. She remembered the many nights spent on the phone with him because she couldn’t sleep without nightmares, the many times he came over so she wouldn’t be alone and do something she would regret later.

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